


Ladybug's Choice (Or Lack Thereof)

by Ava_Dakedavra



Series: Ladybug's Choice Universe [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage AU, F/M, Fluff, Gabriel is Not as Much of a Dick as He Could Have Been, How Do I Tag, Identity Reveal, Marinette's a Princess, Princess Diaries AU, What Was I Thinking?, a little bit of crack?, partial reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ava_Dakedavra/pseuds/Ava_Dakedavra
Summary: Marinette has always had a choice in the decisions made in her life. Her parents gave her that much and she's grateful. She made the decision to become a princess at the age of twelve. She made the decision to become Ladybug at fifteen, and she couldn't be happier. Now it seems that everything is tangling up, she's found herself in an arranged marriage in order to protect the country her aunt adores, and Ladybug may be on the line. How can she find her way out of this, and what choice will she have to make?





	1. The 12 Year Old's Decision

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh I suck at dramatic things so this will just go back and forth between attempted angst and fluffy shit. More angst though. Sorry lol.

Marinette was always given a say in her life. It’s what Tom and Sabine had wanted for her from day one. Of course, she was never spoiled or gotten anything that she wanted, but if she thought that she was being treated unfairly or that there was something she seriously wanted to do with her life, then they would talk it over – even when she was struggling to form coherent sentences – and decide the best course of action.

 

And Marinette had always known her aunt. Sabine’s older sister, Annette Cheng, always known as “Aunty” and occasionally “The Lady I Was Named After.” Sometimes, “Other Mom.” They’d always remained close, and she could remember long phone calls with her aunt about anything and everything, ranging from what colors she wanted in the drawing she was going to mail her to a schoolyard bully that Annette offered to throw in the dungeons.

 

She just hadn’t always known what Annette’s job was. She figured it was something boring and not as fun as a job where you get the leftover cookies from the day, but by the time she was twelve it had never really been a concern to her.

 

It was one of the few Christmases where Annette could visit, and Marinette had been sent off to her room to fiddle with her brand new sewing machine so that adults could talk. After a few hours and seven needle pricks in her fingers, she had been called down into the kitchen where Annette was waiting for her.

 

She explained that she was a queen for a small country called Astrucia. It had been a small island that China had owned since what felt like forever, and it had mainly remained unforgotten. As the eldest sibling, she had been ruling Astrucia while her mother, who had resented her upbringing, moved to France, married Tom, and had her. Since she was ruling Astrucia, she had gotten married to a man named Howard, discovered that she was unable to bear children, and then presented with an illegitimate son that was not hers.

 

“The thing about Astrucia royalty is that the heir to the thrown must be of royal blood,” Annette explained, her parents sitting by quietly as Marinette absorbed everything. “I do not have any children of my own.”

 

“What about Ben?” Marinette asked.

 

Annette grimaced and Sabine choked on a laugh.

 

“Ben is…Ben is Howard’s son, but not my son,” she explained with difficulty. Marinette’s eyes widened, but she nodded anyway.

 

“So, Marinette, what Annette is asking you is…” Sabine took a deep breath, mouth pulled in tight, “And, sweetheart, you can say no if you don’t feel like you’re up to it. Throughout all of this, you have a choice. I want you to know that.”

 

Marinette nodded slowly, looking to Annette who held her hand softly, smiling at her. “Marinette, I would like to ask you to become princess of Astrucia, and later queen.”

 

Marinette’s mouth dropped open, and she said the only two words that made sense at that time.

 

“Shut. _Up._ ”

 

Annette seemed startled while Sabine snorted and began to giggle, Tom grinning at his little girl.

 

“Sorry! I mean – h-how would I…? What would I have to do?”

 

“Lessons about foreign relations and politics mostly, possibly language lessons but most of the country picks up French anyway, although Mandarin wouldn’t hurt either,” she said with a shrug, leaning an elbow against the breakfast bar. Annette had always seemed so stylish to her, with pantsuits at perfect hair and simple yet elegant jewelry. “We could have summer lessons over webcams, you’d be ready to go by the time you’re eighteen.”

 

Marinette looked to her mother, who had smothered her laughs and was looking at her warmly, offering up all of her support with a single look. “Can I…can I still own my own fashion company?”

  
“Sweetheart, you can do anything you want to,” Sabine said with a smile, Annette and Tom smiling and nodding. “Nobody’s asking you to quit what you love.”

 

“The only thing being asked here is a lot of responsibility from you,” Tom added, “We have the utmost faith in you, and will support you in whatever you choose, but this is your decision. It’s your life.”

 

Marinette thought long and hard, taking a break from the conversation to watch the brand new sewing machine zip through all of the patterns she never could manage by hand. Running a country was a big deal. She was only twelve. But she would be older and have more wisdom by the time she would need to run the country.

 

So she stepped downstairs and agreed to become a princess. After all, eighteen was a long ways off, right?

* * *

“So we’ve got this month, then next month with the finals from hell, and then graduation!”

 

“Oh yeah, no sweat, not like there’s university as well, babe.”

  
“Oh come on, there’s a summer break in between, it’ll be fine!”

 

“Says you! Not all of us have our schools picked out, Alya!”

 

“Adrien, you have nothing to worry about, you can get in anywhere.”

 

“Uh, no he can’t, he’s got to go with me so we can be roommates. Right, bro?”

 

“Of course, naturally.”

 

“Marinette? Mari?”

 

Marinette blinked, looking up from her phone with red, glassy eyes, her friends stopping in their trek from the school to the park, blinking at her in surprise.

 

“Marinette, are you okay?” Alya asked, reaching forward and touching her gently, afraid that she’d break if she poked the wrong place. Nino looked on with worry, fidgeting with the chord on his headphones. And Adrien looked like he was ready to hug her, which she’d accept at any other time with glee, but for now.

 

“Uhh,” she sniffed, wiping at an eye with a shaky laugh, “My mom just texted and said she needs me home.”

  
Nino and Adrien glanced between each other with curiosity burning in their eyes.

 

Alya, however, looked concerned. “Do you think it’s about your aunt?”

 

She gave another shaky laugh and shrugged, “What else could it be?”

  
“Uhm, pardon if we’re being insensitive but…what’s wrong?” Adrien questioned, Nino grimacing and nodding.

 

Marinette took a deep breath to steel her nerves, “My aunt found out a year ago that she has cancer. The chemotherapy treatments were working, we thought, but she’s been getting weaker and…I’m worried that my mom texted me rather than said nothing.”

 

Nino nodded as Adrien pursed his lips, Alya rubbing her arms with comfort before giving a soft smile.

 

“How’s about we walk home with you? And if it’s bad, we’ll help you. Okay?”

 

Marinette bit her lower lip before nodding, accepting the hug from Alya and the comforting arm she kept around her shoulders on the walk home. As Marinette texted her mom that she was on her way with her friends, the three returned to their conversation about summer, although with more curious and worried glances thrown her way.

 

The three stopped when a limo was pulled up to the front of the bakery, Marinette clutching Alya’s arm as she felt her knees go weaker and her heart plummet into her stomach. Without asking, they helped her to the front door, where Tom was holding Sabine and three men in suits turned around to great them.

 

One was a nameless bodyguard, big and muscular with a black curled wire running up to his ear. He gave the four a nod before resuming his indifferent stance by the wall.

 

Another was Marinette’s “cousin” Benjamin Hawthorne, who straightened his suit and gave a winning grin to his cousin.

 

The third was Prince Ali, his head bowed after he made accidental eye contact with the four.

 

“What’s going on?” Alya asked, squeezing Marinette tighter in her worried confusion.

 

Sabine sighed, rubbing at her temples before giving a small grin, “Let’s all go upstairs, there’s more room to sit down.”

 

The entire group followed, Tom pausing downstairs to lock the doors and close the blinds on the windows before he too joined them. The bodyguard remained standing, everyone else taking a seat on the sectional or pulling up chairs to sit in.

 

“Is Annette alright?” Marinette asked at first, hands fisted in her lap as she felt Tikki press into her hip for comfort.

 

“Annette is…” Sabine faltered before sitting down on the side that Alya hadn’t taken, holding her hand and cupping her cheek, “Annette is getting worse, cupcake. The doctor’s keep saying any day now. She hasn’t been awake for a week.”

 

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut tightly, balling her hands into fists so tight that her knuckles turned white. After a few moments and Alya rubbing her back, she released a deep breath before turning to Ben. “What’s he doing here? And Prince Ali?”

 

Ben, who looked nothing like his aunt or any of Marinette’s family, grinned like a snake and stepped forward, “Astrucia has found itself with some high tensions from the Achu kingdom. To right any hurt feelings, we have agreed to allow them to have reign over part of Astrucia.”

 

“How could you do that?!” Marinette stood up in a flash, glaring at Ben as he stood there with his smug little grin and a tablet. “You are not the heir nor ruler of Astrucia, you don’t get to say that!” As an after thought, she turned to Prince Ali with a nervous smile, “Err, sorry.”

  
“I understand,” he nodded, a tight smile and his hands behind his back.

 

“The reason that Prince Ali will reign part of Astrucia is because we have agreed to an arranged marriage, which is entirely legal in his country,” Ben stated, that malicious little glint in his eyes growing brighter.

 

Marinette gaped at him, her mother, and her father before releasing an almighty screech, “ _What?!_ ”

 

“Uhh…what does that have to do with Marinette?” Adrien asked with some hesitation.

 

“What does any of this have to do with Marinette?” Nino added.

 

“Didn’t she tell you?” Ben asked as Marinette’s teeth gritted and grinded together. “Marinette’s a princess!”

 

After a long, silent pause, Alya finally broke the silence. “Explain.”

 

Marinette sighed, sitting back down on the couch, rubbing her face tiredly. “My aunt Annette is queen of a small country called Astrucia, it’s mainly forgotten by pretty much everyone, everywhere. The heir to the throne must be of royal blood, and seeing as I am the only one aside from Maman, I have been a princess since I was twelve.”

  
“THAT’S THE KIND OF SHIT YOU TELL YOUR BEST FRIEND, GIRL,” Alya shouted before Nino clamped his hand over her mouth.

 

“We’re supportive and understand your secrecy,” he insisted loudly, trying to drown out her muffled yelling.

 

“That’s…pretty big,” Adrien agreed before frowning up at Ali, “What about Rose?”

 

Ali grimaced, looking down at his toes. “Rose…we had to split up. She’s unhappy, but understands….”

 

Marinette frowned as Alya tried to calm herself. “And you want Ali and I…?”

  
“In order to avoid a war, yes,” Ben answered, still with that smug grin.

 

“Marinette, we’ve always told you throughout all of this that you have a choice,” Tom spoke up, “And this is more than we’ve ever even thought of.”

  
“Arranged marriage is highly illegal in Astrucia, but that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t happen,” Sabine insisted, “If you went through with this, you would have to pretend that you had dated for a while before deciding upon marriage.”

 

“But nothing will happen if Annette wakes up,” Marinette murmured.

 

“Marinette…I think we need to start thinking that Annette might never wake up,” Sabine whispered, wrapping her arms around her daughter tightly as she took deep breaths to keep from breaking down. Alya, having calmed down again, merely watched on with concern like Nino and Adrien.

 

“Well, Marinette, if it’s too much for you, we can always –“ Ben began before she raised a hand to stop him.

 

“I’ll do it,” she sighed, “It’s what Annette wanted. I’m going to do it.”

 

Ben pursed his lips before grinning, “Great! You’ll be married before the summer begins.”

 

“So while I’m in school, lovely,” she muttered with a growl as Ali straightened his tie.

 

“We can, ah, discuss the arrangements later, get to know each other properly,” he said, wondering whether to shake her hand or not. “You need time to process this.”

 

“We need time to process this,” Alya grumbled, Nino and Adrien shooting her a glare.

 

“Of course!” Ben insisted, that saccharine grin condescending them. “Take your time. Although, I’ve got several appointments already lined up in the next two weeks.”

 

“Ben, get out,” Sabine growled, holding Marinette tightly and rubbing her back.

 

“Of course, Aunt Sabine, Uncle Tom, _dear_ Marinette and…friends,” he sniffed before turning on his heel and escorting Prince Ali out, “Come then, we’ll settle the treaty papers as soon as possible.”

 

Once they and the bodyguard exited, Alya got out her phone and began furiously typing.

 

“Astrucia – founded by some guy name Thomas Astruc, been a Chinese territory ever since,” she spoke, mainly to Adrien and Nino who were listening intently. “Often forgotten for how small it is, it’s stayed out of numerous wars, only ever having civil disputes. It is currently having issues with the Achu kingdom, and diplomats are converging to try to make peace.”

 

“Current queen is Annette Cheng,” Nino spoke as he tapped on her page.

 

“Annette Cheng is the eldest of two siblings, Sabine Cheng and Marius Cheng.” They paused, looking to the family, where Tom offered a photo from his phone of Marius – who was now known as Celia Cheng. They continued on. “Annette discovered early in her reign, after her marriage to Howard Hawthorne, that she was unable to bear children. After Howard’s affair with Astrucian actress Sybella Bona…Bonafici? – after his affair, Benjamin Hawthorne was born. However, Benjamin is not of the royal bloodline so he is ineligible to become heir. Annette’s niece and Sabine’s daughter, Marinette, has been declared the princess and heir to the throne.”

 

“And now she’s agreed to an arranged marriage,” Nino supplied, the three turning to watch Marinette begin to break down in her mother’s arms.


	2. You Weep What You Sow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst angst angst angst angst

Marinette felt her eyes sting through as she flew through the air, soaring over the streets of Paris. She’d needed to get out as soon as possible, away from everyone watching over her. It was wonderful to have so much support around you, but she felt smothered, especially after the day she had.

 

Even Tikki had gotten her say in.

 

_“A princess?! Marinette, why didn’t you tell me?”_

_“Uhh…it never came up?”_

_“Still! I could have helped you, prepared you, supported you even more properly! Do you know how many of my ladybugs were royalty!? A lot!”_

_“That’s…that’s nice, Tikki, but I – ”_

_“Honestly, Marinette, this sort of behavior is completely irresponsible and downright childish,” the little god fumed, Marinette’s mouth popping open before the tears began to well up. Upon seeing them, Tikki winced, trying to fly up to comfort, “Oh, Marinette, I didn’t – ”_

_  
“Tikki,” she said in a whisper. “Spots on.”_

 

“Good evening, my Lady, how lovely to see you!”

 

Marinette, in her rush to just get away from everything, had nearly plowed into the black clad hero, halting in her swing and crashing into his outstretched arms to keep her from smacking into his chest. He took it like a sport though, grinning back at her with glee, and that was all it took for her to begin crying.

 

“Ladybug? My Lady? Bugaboo?” he questioned, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close, “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?”

 

She shook her head, sobbing hysterically, and buried her face deeper into his chest. He smelled like sage and mint, and she tried to focus on that rather than everything else in her life, but they kept resurfacing, and she found herself unable to stop.

 

“Bug, hey, talk to me,” he insisted worriedly, tail wrapping around her as if to comfort her as well. “Whatever it is, I can help. Let me help.”

 

“I – I – I _can’t_ , I can’t do it all, I don’t have a choice,” she sobbed, latching on to him.

 

“Is it school?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“Friends?”

 

She gave a cough.

 

“Family?”

 

She wailed.

 

“Big, big family obligations?”

 

She choked on a sob and he was worried she was going to puke.

 

“Okay. So, you can’t tell me much, I get that,” he rest his head on top of hers, rubbing her back soothingly. “But whatever it is, you can get through this.”

 

“I – I might have to stop being Ladybug,” she whispered, and he found himself frozen. “I might have to move away. I – I might not ever see you again.”

 

“Then…” he choked on his own tears, determined not to let them spill out. “Then we can fix it. We can find a way. How long do you have?”

 

“Until summer.”

 

“Shit,” he whispered, squeezing her tighter in an effort to maybe stem the flow of tears somehow. “Whatever it is, we can do it.”

 

“How?” she wailed, stomping her foot and then choking back more tears when she realized how _childish_ that was. “It’s big, Chat! I don’t see how you could possibly help me out here.”

 

“By being here,” he stated simply, leaning his head on top of hers, “No matter what, Bugaboo, I’m always here for you.” She sniffled and he pulled away slightly, giving a grin and tapping her nose, “We’ll just have to find a way around the identities thing, probably, maybe.”

 

“But there’s no way to stop it,” she whispered brokenly. “I have to.”

 

He faltered, leaning down to look up at her face, “Then…then, whatever it takes. I’ll help. And, you know what, if you can’t be Ladybug…then I see no point in me being Chat Noir.”

 

Her eyes widened and she gaped, “No! No, that’s not what I want at all!”

 

“I know it’s not,” he insisted, “But you’re all the fun in being Chat Noir. What’s the point if there’s no you?”

  
“You told me this was an escape for you, I’m not letting you throw that away because of me,” she glared.

 

“Bugaboo,” he whispered, pulling her closer and looking at her desperately, “You know how I feel about you.” A steady blush began to work its way under her mask, and she tried to duck away to look away from his gaze. He nudged her chin back up to look at him head on. “You think I’ll still think of this, of any of this, as something fun and manageable, if you’re not here with me? You think there could ever be somebody to just replace you, simple as that, without replacing me? You and I, we’re a team. And that will never, ever change.”

 

She bit her lip, the tears welling up again before they slipped out, his thumbs brushing them away quickly, “I…I can’t. I really can’t this time.”

 

“I understand,” he insisted, smiling softly.

 

“No, I – ” she shut her eyes, hands balling up into fists on his chest, “I have to get married. An arranged marriage.”

 

She missed the look of shock and utter heartbreak on his face before he sucked in a breath and whispered out, “Marinette?”

 

She tore her eyes open and gaped at him, hands returning to her own chest and her own personal space. “Y-you know who I am?”

 

“Oh my God, Marinette, I – ” he began, before her earrings began to beep and he swallowed his tongue. “Y-you should go. Please, get home safe, okay?”

 

She nodded, retreating slowly at first before finally running across the rooftops, disappearing out of sight before he fell to his knees and let out the loudest, heart wrenching wail that had ever been heard before, clutching at his chest as he struggled to breathe.

* * *

 

Adrien numbly thumbed through his phone, frowning at all of the articles that had come out last night about Marinette being princess of Astrucia and getting into a relationship with Ali.

 

“ _He didn’t know at first_ ,” one article had quoted Marinette. “ _It was just a happy surprise!_ ”

 

“ _We’re very happy_ ,” Ali had been quoted in another. “ _We just thought it was finally the perfect time to announce it_.”

 

Bullshit. All of it.

 

Adrien slumped lower in the car seat, glaring out of the window as Plagg quietly and carefully moved to rest in the palm of his hand, trying to be as quiet as possible so that the Gorilla didn’t notice him.

 

“She’s not happy,” he murmured, just to Plagg.

 

“I know,” he answered.

 

“She’d be happier with _me_ ,” he whispered brokenly, stubbornly gritting his jaw to keep the tears from falling.

 

“I know,” he answered again, before they pulled up in front of the school, where at least fifty reporters were already stationed. Once they saw the limo, they got themselves into a frenzy, Adrien rolling his eyes as he grabbed his bag, nodded goodbye to the Gorilla, and got out, ignoring all of them as he kept marching towards the school steps, where Alya and Nino were quietly conversing as Chloe tried to direct the attention towards her, the principal and Monsieur Jacquelle trying to get the reporters to go away.

 

“Hey, man, how’re you?” Nino asked, nudging his shoulder with his own.

 

Adrien let a grunt dictate how he was feeling.

 

“Same,” Alya sighed, rubbing at her temples. It was one of the few times in the past few years that she had ignored putting on makeup, her eyes puffy and blotchy behind her glasses. “I can’t even imagine how Marinette’s feeling right now.”

 

“Did anybody talk to her last night?” Nino asked.

 

 _I did_ , Adrien thought bitterly. _At night. On a rooftop. Like we’ve been doing for years. With masks. Where I found out her secret identity and realized I’d forever lost my chances with her all in one._

 

“I texted her a bit, but she never responded,” Alya answered, “She probably wanted to be alone.”

 

Adrien turned as the reporters grew louder, catching sight of Marinette’s dark hair and feeling his heart jump into his throat as he saw that it had been pinned and pulled into a bun, and that she was wearing a summery top with shorts that just made her legs seem longer. That, and…was it just him, or was she wearing more makeup than usual?

 

Sidestepping the reporters and clutching her backpack so as not to bump anybody, she kept her head high and made her way up the steps, grimacing as the edge of her sandal caught on the step and nearly tripping sideways, but Ivan nudged her and kept her steady with a small smile and a discreet thumbs up.

 

Just as she was nearly to them, she had an elbow thrown around her and was forced to spin around, blinking in surprise at all of the cameras that were flashing at her.

 

“This, everybody, is my _best friend_ and brand new princess, Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” Chloe crowed, and Alya let out whispered curses as Nino gripped her arm and held her back. “Of course, _I_ already knew, as I’m her _best friend_ , and I, Chloe Bourgeois, am just as elite and entitled as she is.”

 

Marinette, with a look of surprise, snorted, stepping away from Chloe with a small frown, “With all _due_ respect, I’m afraid Chloe is not my best friend, nor have we ever been particularly close. As such, no one knew of my…heritage until yesterday, aside from my family and Prince Ali. Thank you, but I’d rather go see my friends before class.” The reporters carried on, but Marinette simply turned and headed over to her friends, face looking tired and weary.

 

Alya opened her arms up to her, steering her inside as the principal tried to regain control of the reporters. Adrien and Nino followed, glaring at anyone who was not in their normal class that even looked at her for too long.

 

Once in a reclusive corner, Alya pulled back and gave Marinette a warm smile, “Girl, I think you took all of the makeup that was supposed to go on my face today!”

 

Marinette gave a weary grin, snorting as she shouldered her bag, “Ben had a few opinions on how I should look today. He showed up at five thirty this morning with a makeup stylist.”

 

“Yikes,” Nino laughed before bumping her with his elbow, “How’re you feeling, kid?”

 

She sighed, shoulders slumping, “Lots of things. Mainly awful. I…feel like I’ve hurt a lot of people with this.”

 

Adrien winced, knowing that she was talking about Chat, when Alya spoke.

  
“Listen, we get it,” she insisted, “I mean, yeah, it kind of shocked us, but we totally get it. It’s a big deal, we understand the secrecy.”

 

She paused before nodding, gaze distant, before Adrien spoke to her.

 

“Did you get any sleep last night?” he asked, quietly, wishing she knew how much he cared about her.

 

“Oh,” she said, softly, before shaking her head, “No. I just…stayed out on my roof, trying to think about things.”

 

 _No, you stayed out on a rooftop near the Eiffel Tower and cried into my chest while I held you before accidentally giving away your secret identity and breaking my heart in one fell swoop_. “You should have tried to sleep,” he said instead.

 

“I’ll be fine, but thank you,” she nodded.

 

The group departed as the bell rang, splitting up to go into their separate homerooms. Yet all Adrien could think about were the days when she was just behind him, when she was the closest one to him about everything, when he knew so little but felt like he knew her better than anyone. All day, Adrien kept thinking about Marinette.

 

And how it should’ve been him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst angst angst angst angst


	3. Hurt Yet Hopeful

They’d kept the charade up for about a month, and the paparazzi ate it up. Always seen together on weekends, holding hands and smiling and everyone else believed it. They’d been on numerous talk shows and interviews, explaining how they had met and fell in love.

 

On the most recent one, Ali had gotten down on one knee.

 

And she’d had to say yes.

 

Adrien couldn’t help but watch, gritting his teeth painfully hard as he started at his computer screen, watching Marinette – _his Lady_ – as she was proposed to, watching as she covered her mouth and shut her eyes before releasing a sob and nodding quickly, letting Ali shield her from the cameras in what looked like a happy hug when Adrien knew better.

 

“Kid,” Plagg began quietly, perched on his shoulder. “Don’t torture yourself like that.”

 

Adrien couldn’t respond, as he felt the tears coming out on his own, and knew that if he opened his mouth that a scream would only come out. He couldn’t even call for a transformation right now, and he didn’t really want to see how he was supposed to maneuver across rooftops anyway. He’d been cornered by Alya a few weeks ago, her poking and prodding and demanding to know why he was so moody, and Nino had grimaced and blanched and tried to pry her away, insisting that Adrien’s business was his own.

 

“I don’t like what’s going on with Marinette,” he said, quietly, looking down at the books he’d laid before him.

 

Alya stopped, as did Nino in his attempts to pull her away, and the redhead gave a weary sigh before sitting in the chair next to him. “I don’t either. This…isn’t what she deserves.”

 

“She deserves better,” Adrien huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes tight, trying very, very hard not to cry.

 

Alya was silent for a few moments, Nino hovering worriedly, not knowing who to comfort first, when she picked her knees up and cradled them against her chest, trying to fight down tears as well. “S-she deserves you.”

 

Adrien whipped his head around to her, eyes wide in surprise before she took a deep breath and kept going.

 

“It really doesn’t matter now, I guess, but she’s always had a giant crush on you,” she admitted, tears travelling slowly down her cheeks. “Ever since some thing in the rain? I don’t know. It feels like since day one. But Marinette is just so fucking awkward,” she gave a short laugh, “And…I think she just wanted to make sure you were happy. And if you were happier as just friends with her, she would’ve taken that in stride. But…Adrien, she really loved you. Probably still does.”

 

Adrien gaped at her before scrubbing his hands down his face. No wonder she’d rebuffed Chat Noir for years upon years – she’d liked the civilian side. And, like an idiot, he couldn’t turn around and pay attention to the girl who’d fallen in love with him. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

 

“Hell yeah, you are,” Alya insisted with a clap on the back, a watery laugh popping out of her throat as Nino chuckled. “I don’t think it would’ve mattered though. I think this would have happened anyway. Look what they did with Rose.”

 

Adrien had, by some miracle, stumbled upon Rose a few days later, out by herself at a coffee shop and letting the breeze blow through her. He’d called out to her, and she’d blinked before giving a shaky smile. She didn’t look quite right, he’d thought as he sat down across from her, like she hadn’t slept in ages and like she were always seconds away from crying.

 

“Alya, Nino and I all know,” he began, making her blink in surprise, “How are you feeling?”

 

She’d released a shaky breath before speaking, “I’ve been doing better, actually. I just can’t stomach going onto the internet or turning on the tv. I’ve been sticking to solely Netflix though, which isn’t half bad.”

 

“You haven’t been missing much,” he said, making her give a tiny smile. “This whole thing sucks.”

  
She shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee, “They’re royalty, Adrien, they don’t get a say.”

 

“They should,” he insisted with a huff, “This is all…barbaric.”

 

She quirked a brow and a soft smile, “Many places still practice… _that_ with people who aren’t royalty.”

 

“Well, I think everyone should get a say in who they marry,” he shrugged.

 

Rose took a very long look at him before her eyes widened and she blinked, “You’re in love with Mari.”

 

He gaped back at her, unable to find words that would even begin to help him. “H-how - ?”

 

“You look how I look,” she whispered, motioning around the eyes, and Adrien touched his skin and briefly thought back to the concerned look his father had been giving him recently. “Oh, Adrien – I’m so sorry. I know that Mari would’ve been so much happier with you.”

 

He set his jaw and nodded, scrubbing his face and murmuring, “I would’ve made sure she was happy.”

 

Rose bit her lip before reaching out and gently touching his hand, an empathetic look in her eye as he lowered his hands from his face, “I wish I could find something to do or say but…well, I’ve still trying to find the right thing to say to myself.”

 

“Thank you anyway, Rose,” he said with a smile, squeezing her hand gently.

 

And now here he sat, watching Marinette, his Lady, his love, getting proposed to.

 

And he _broke._

 

He doubled over in his chair, heavy sobs wracking through his body, trying to catch his breath and finding that he couldn’t, clutching at his chest and lowering himself to his knees to see if he could breathe better there, but no, everything was tight and everything hurt, and before he knew it he was wrapped up in someone else’s arms and they were trying to talk to him, trying to bring him back, but he couldn’t, not yet.

 

Marinette was going to get married, she was going to go and rule over her stupid country with her stupidly nice husband and she was probably going to pop out a few stupidly nice kids for heirs, and it wasn’t fair, he didn’t even get a _chance._

 

“Adrien,” a deep, rumbling voice said just into his ear, feeling the vibrations against the other, “Breathe, son.”

 

It was his dad? Gabriel Agreste was comforting him?

 

“In,” he commanded, and Adrien tried to comply, shakily, and he felt a warm hand rubbing up and down his back. “Out,” Gabriel insisted, and Adrien did.

 

They went on like this for a few minutes, starting over again when Adrien hiccupped or choked on a sob, and eventually Adrien was just trying to wipe the tears from his face as Gabriel swiveled himself around to face him.

 

“Now, what happened?” he asked, and Adrien grimaced.

 

“I – I – n-n-nothing,” he stuttered, and Gabriel rolled his eyes before looking up at the monitor.

 

Adrien held his breath, watching as Gabriel’s features softened and he turned back to him.

 

“You’re in love with that girl?”

 

Adrien set his jaw, pausing before nodding briefly.

 

Gabriel helped him stand and led him to the couch, sitting opposite each other before Gabriel did something very unlike him. He took off his glasses, set them on the table, and ran his hands through his hair with a very big sigh.

 

“I’ve been in the same situation, I’m afraid,” he began, pausing with a smile, “With your mother.”

 

“Mom?” he whispered, looking at him in surprise.

 

“Your mother was engaged right out of high school, and I’d felt as though I had lost my chance. Her engagement went on for months, and she’d commissioned me to do her wedding dress and bridal dresses. Straight out of high school, and she remembered me from her class, getting picked on and bullied for drawing pretty dresses in my free time. We got to know each other better through that time, and eventually she told me she wasn’t happy with her fiancé. I encouraged her to break it off with him, and her main concern was the dresses I had already completed. I told her that she could use them for whenever she got married. And, three years later, she did, at our wedding.”

  
Adrien gave a small smile, vaguely remembering his parents’ wedding photos, how big his mother had smiled and how Gabriel had hidden his own smile behind her updo, but that the curve of his cheeks still had said it all.

 

“I know that the same may not happen for you, Adrien,” he insisted, gripping his hand tightly, “But please know that you should never give up hope. Just know when the right time is to say something.”

 

Adrien nodded before grimacing, wiping away the wetness still on his cheek, “I-I’m sorry that I – ”

 

“Adrien,” Gabriel interrupted, “I know that I haven’t always been the most…emotionally capable father. I know that I haven’t always been the most _capable_ father. But seeing you…like that…knowing that you were hurting, had been for some time, had been having these feelings that I had been unaware of, had been unaware of your life for so long….” He stood, gathering his glasses, but maintained a steady eye contact, “That will never happen again. I promise you.”

 

“Thank you,” Adrien said, gratefully, and Adrien knew that things would be different this time around as Gabriel stooped down for another hug, holding him tightly to his chest and pecking the top of his head.

 

“Never again,” Gabriel said, “If you ever need me, you can come and find me or call Natalie. From now on, you will always be put through.”

 

Adrien nodded, smiling slightly as he left, shutting the door quietly behind him, before he heard Plagg sigh from atop the desk.

 

“You were still there?!” Adrien whispered harshly, worried that Gabriel was still near.

 

Plagg flew over with a roll of his eyes, “Relax, I stayed still as a statue, he probably thought I was some kind of toy.”

 

Plagg landed in the cup of his hands, something that was only done when they were about to get really deep. “How are you feeling now?”

 

Adrien released a deep breath, “Hurt…but hopeful? If that makes sense.”

 

Plagg blinked before snorting, “Yeah, it does, I’ve heard it I don’t know how many times with my other Chats. ‘How ya feeling, kid?’ ‘Oh, I’ve just lost an arm, but Ladybug’s noticing me now, so I’m hopeful!’”

 

“Chat Noirs have lost arms?” Adrien crowed worriedly.

 

“The stupid ones have,” he shrugged. “Speaking of Chat Noirs…you think maybe you should go see the bread girl and see how she feels about all of this? It’s been a month since you’ve talked to her as Chat, and you’ve only spoken a handful of words to her as Adrien.”

 

He grimaced, feeling his chest tighten painfully, before he nodded, transforming and leaping through his bathroom window, traipsing his way carefully to the bakery.

 

Luck seemed to be on his side, as Marinette was on her balcony, curled up on her outdoor chaise lounge with her hands cupped around something. He landed on the railing behind her, only catching the last half of the conversation.

 

“ – thousands of Ladybugs have gone through what you’re going through, Marinette, and things have always turned out for them!” the little red being cupped in her hands insisted.

 

“Yeah, but I bet thousands of Ladybugs weren’t already in love,” she muttered bitterly, and that caused Chat Noir to lose his footing and crash on top of her, making her give a startled yelp and curl her kwami closer to her chest for protection.

 

“Sorry, sorry!” he insisted, getting off of her in an instant, hands raised and apologetic look on his face as she winced and rubbed at a hip bone, the red kwami flitting up to check on her Ladybug. “I just – ah! Wanted to check on you and then I did that and – I’m so so sorry, my Lady.”

 

Marinette froze, as did Chat, and they locked eyes in wide, worried gazes.

 

The red kwami, however, giggled and flitted over in front of Chat, “Hello! My name is Tikki!”

 

“Uhm, hi, nice to meet you,” he said, smiling nervously at her.

 

“I just wanted to thank you for always looking out for Marinette, but the next time you put yourself in danger – _Plagg_ – we’ve decided we’re duct-taping you to a tree.”

  
Marinette giggled as Chat Noir huffed.

 

“That is not Plagg, thank you very much, that is all me, and I’m offended that – ”

 

“If it’s all you, then why did every single Chat Noir do the same thing?” she chirped before flitting near his ring, “You hear me, Plagg? You knock that off, it gives me and my Ladybug’s heart attacks every time.”

 

Adrien’s mouth opened on his own accord, and Plagg’s voice popped out, “ _Too bad, I’ll still do it._ ” He yelped, clapping his hands over his mouth as Marinette gaped at him.

 

“How long have you been able to do that?!” he whispered, Tikki giggling once again.

 

“Since always,” she answered, “We only do it in extreme emergencies when we need to talk to one another, but transformation is out of the question.”

 

“Why is it out of the question?” Marinette asked with a shrug, “Chat Noir already knows who I am.”

 

Chat and Tikki both faltered, Tikki choosing to speak. “Yes, but…you don’t know who Chat is….”

 

“And…now that he knows who I am, he doesn’t want me to know who he is?” Marinette asked with growing coldness.

 

“It’s not that at all,” he insisted, crouching down before her and settling his hands on her knees in comfort, “I think that if I transformed right now…it would only hurt you.”

 

She scoffed, rubbing at an eye to try to hide a tear, “Not much else could hurt me today, Chaton.”

 

He softened, taking her into his arms and cradling her against his chest. “I think that this would, My Lady.”

 

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, and he moved to sit on the terrace floor to hold her and rock her as she tried to cry as quietly as possible.

 

He rubbed her back, breathed in her smell, and hummed to her under the stars, knowing that she needed the comfort just as much as he did, if not more.


	4. Best Dressed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl's gotta have a dress, right?

Marinette cuddled up in the backseat of the way-too-expensive limousine, feeling nauseous and sick and just in a general bad mood. Ben had been clamoring for her to start on wedding preparations, so she’d been spending her afternoons studying for her last semester before she began university, her nights preparing on running a small country, and her mornings leafing half-heartedly through wedding magazines.

 

“My parents will pay for it,” Ali stated over one of their more casual “dates,” sipping at a tea as she flicked through another bridal magazine. “You can get a custom dress, if you want. I know you’re into designing things, so….”

 

He’d cut himself off awkwardly, but she managed a small smile for him in any case and thanked him. She’d had several ideas, but not enough time to actually settle anything. Her mother tried as best as she could, but dresses were not her forte, having focused more on the floral arrangements at her own wedding and seeking Annette’s and Marius’s (now going as Cecilia) approval for the dress.

 

She’d found herself lamenting to Alya one day over lunch, the redhead wincing upon hearing everything she was going through, when Adrien had snuck up behind them and casually offered a meeting with his father.

 

“You’re a big fan of his work, aren’t you?” he asked, sounding as if he were getting sick, not quite looking her in the eye as Nino sat down beside Alya, leaving the only open space next to Marinette. “I can get you an appointment, see if you want to work with him.”

 

“I-I’m sure your father wouldn’t want to bother with my designs, Adrien,” she insisted, flapping her hands rather uselessly, “They’re really terrible, I haven’t even gotten one done, just bits and pieces.”

 

He shrugged, finally sitting down beside her, “He’ll work with you through them and find out what you want.”

 

So Adrien had messaged Nathalie, who’d messaged his father, who’d messaged Adrien himself and asked if Marinette had a specific time she was available. She’d squeaked, Alya had interpreted and said that she could make time, and so now here she sat, riding to the love of her life’s mansion for an appointment with his father on a wedding dress that would not be used to marry said love of her life.

 

The worst part was, Ben couldn’t shut up.

 

“The beginnings of the contract here are roughly what you’ll sign after the wedding ceremony,” he blabbed, flicking through his tablet as Marinette stared out of the window. “Legal standings, sort of like a prenup, except divorce is non-negotiable. Also, when you’re expected to pop out an heir is included. It’s looking like the earliest is in two years.”

 

Marinette paled, pressing her lips together and drumming her nails against the latch for the door. She wondered, briefly, if she could just pop her seatbelt and roll right out of the limo before flicking away across the skylights, never to be seen as Marinette again. She could probably get Chat in on it, get him to sneak her food as she lived her days in an abandoned warehouse or something. But then she thought of her parents and friends and sighed that thought away.

 

Tikki pressed a comforting warmth into her hip, making her give a small smile and brush her fingers over her purse. Ben saw the movement and sneered.

 

“I wish you’d get rid of that ratty thing,” he insisted, eyeing her purse, “You’ve had that for what? Five years?”

 

“Six,” she stated simply, “It’s the first thing I’ve ever made for myself. I will not throw it away.” Tikki pressed into her hip again, trying to stifle a giggle.

 

“At least you’ve dressed up for this occasion,” he sniffed, eyeing the sundress with distaste even then, “You need to start looking more presentable, in any case. You’ll have paparazzi following you for the rest of your life, you need to start setting examples. Maybe we should look into botox, or even implants.”

 

Marinette snapped her head around to him, gaping as he ignored her stare and continued to hum and flick through his tablet. “Now you listen here, Benjamin Hawthorne,” she started lowly, fire in her eyes. “I don’t give a damn what you think of the way I look. I will not do injections, I will not get implants, I will not do pills or creams or anything like that. I am fucking perfect the way I am, and the day I let anybody tell me otherwise is the day I go to prison for assault. Do _not_ make me slap you right here, right now, because I will the next time you dare make such a suggestion to me.”

 

Ben blinked, screwed his mouth up, and huffed. Marinette held her head high, stared him straight in the eye, and got out of the limo, slamming the door shut behind her as she marched up to the gate. If Ben had any ounce of self-perseveration, he’d just stay in the damn car.

 

Upon hearing the other car door shut, Marinette decided that Ben must have a death wish.

 

“Yes?” Nathalie asked from the camera.

 

“I have an appointment at two, I hope it’s alright I showed up early,” Marinette stated sweetly, although she hoped Ben could feel the fury radiating off of her. “I’m alright with waiting, in any case.”

 

“Oh, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” she said, recognition in her tone, “The Hat Winner.” Marinette gave a startled laugh, surprised she remembered that. “Yes, Monsieur Agreste is ready for you now, step right inside.”

 

She lead the way through the gate, Ben still seething behind her as she marched up the marble steps, willing herself not to fall with those stupid heels she had on, and stood poised in the foyer.

 

What nearly knocked her off of her feet, however, was seeing Adrien come through, head bowed and eyes on his phone as he texted someone rapidly. Probably Nino, given how much his phone was buzzing back. Nino loved multi-texting. He stood there, tongue sticking out, frustration on his face before he looked up and froze upon seeing her there.

 

“Uhh,” he said, clicking his phone shut and ignoring how it still buzzed in his hands. “Hey, Mari.”

 

“Hi,” she managed meekly, finding it a personal success.

 

“Adrien,” Ben acknowledged roughly, and Marinette nearly cracked a rib from holding in a laugh at the way Adrien’s eyes slid over Ben dully before rolling them and focusing back on her, the edges of his mouth picking up when he saw her amusement.

 

“So, where’s your portfolio of ideas?” he teased lightly, stepping closer with his hands in his pockets and perfectly wedging Ben out of the conversation, just with how he turned his body. Ben, on his part, stepped aside and began dialing on his phone.

 

“My what?” she asked, confusion filtering through.

 

Adrien grimaced, “I told my dad that you designed, he remembered you from the hat contest, he’s kind of…expecting a portfolio spread.”

 

Marinette almost paled before her hand came up with her phone attached, “Is it alright if it’s just on my phone?”

 

He brightened, nodding, “Yeah, that’s totally fine! Can I see?”

 

She offered him her phone and let him flick through the designs, smiling as he saw the sketches.

 

“I like this one,” he said, tilting her phone so she could see which one he was talking about, “I think it’d suit you better.”

 

She turned, looking at the dreamlike sketches she’d made around the skirt of the dress, although she’d left the bodice unfinished. “Oh…but I haven’t finished it.”

 

“I know, but I kind of get the feeling you were trying to put across, if that makes any sense,” he shrugged, flicking through her phone once more. “It just screams ‘Marinette’ to me.”

 

She blushed up to her roots, grateful that he wasn’t paying any attention, and jumped when a voice called out from the landing of the stairs.

 

“Ahh, I see my own son is the hold up,” Gabriel Agreste called, Adrien sheepishly grinning and handing Marinette’s phone back to her. Gabriel, however, simply smiled and walked his way down to them, offering his hand to Marinette, “I’m afraid I’ve never worked with royalty. Should I bow, or will a handshake do?”

 

Marinette gave a nervous laugh, unsure what the protocol should even be, and offered her hand as well, “A handshake is fine, thank you. Thank you for having me, Monsier Agreste.”

 

“Call me Gabriel,” he insisted, and Adrien gave a weird choking sound. “And it’s a pleasure to have you here. Shall we get started?”

 

“Yes, let’s!” Ben chirped as he hung up his phone, both Agreste men and Marinette gathering pinched faces.

 

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid this is a private appointment between myself and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng,” Gabriel stated plainly, and Adrien’s mouth quirked up again as Marinette gave her cousin a cheeky grin. “You can take a seat here until we’re finished.”

 

Ben almost turned purple, gesturing to Adrien, “But he’s going!”

 

“Nah,” Adrien clicked, smug as he gave a mock two-fingered salute once he turned to go, “I’m gonna go play Nintendo. Mari, when you’re done, you can kill time with me if you want!”

 

Gabriel hummed before giving a small shrug, motioning for Marinette to follow as Ben openly gaped at them all. She followed Gabriel up the staircase, taking a different set of stairs than Adrien had and winding through a long hallway, coming to a stop at a maple wooden door with the company’s insignia emblazoned into it. He opened the door, motioning for her to sit as he made his way around the desk. She sat, purse in her lap and phone grasped tightly in her hand, almost jumping when she received a text.

 

555-357-6294   Hey, it’s Adrien! Don’t sweat it, you’ll do fine! :3

 

Marinette’s eyes bugged out at the text, unlocking her phone and moving to her wedding dress sketches instead. She’d deleted his number after the voicemail incident during middle school, but she couldn’t believe that even after years after that, she’d never gotten his number until just then.

 

“I-I’m sorry, but I’m afraid all of my ideas are on my phone,” she stammered as Gabriel cleaned his glasses.

 

“It’s quite alright, I would only hold it against you if this were a job interview,” he replied calmly, taking her phone in his hands and swiping through, humming once or twice before clicking the phone off and returning it to her. “A few elements that you kept returning to, I’ve noticed, so I’ll be sure to incorporate that.”

 

“A-actually,” she said, feeling her stomach begin to tighten up into even tighter knots. “Could you…uhm, could you leave out one? This one?” She pulled open her phone to show it to him, showing the one Adrien had decided as his favorite. She was still so hung up on him, still so very much in love with him, that to walk down an aisle in a dress he’d suggested, without him on the other side of it…she’d be devastated.

 

Gabriel had nodded, making notes, before clasping his hands atop of his desk. “And your bridesmaid dresses? Have you given those much thought?”

 

Marinette nearly cursed, placing her phone back into her lap to fidget with her fingers. “I-I…well, I haven’t given much thought to the bridesmaids themselves. Uhh…Alya will definitely be my maid of honor, I’m sure, and I’d like to have another two, but…I’m just not sure who.”

 

He nodded, understandingly, scribbling into his notebook again, “Three dresses, then. Any ideas on the color?”

 

She sat back, thinking, tapping her fingers on the back of her phone case. “Like a…like a soft pink. Like a pink from my parents’ bakery.”

 

“And the cut?” he questioned.

 

“Well, just going by Alya, I wouldn’t want anything off-shouldered,” she mused, settling her chin into her palm, “And nothing too long for her as well, I guess applying the same to the other bridesmaids. I do want the dresses all different in some way, making each girl look like they have some individuality, so possibly some sheer sleeves for Alya to start with.”

 

Gabriel watched on in amusement as she continued to think out loud, scribbling down her ideas as she continued. By the time the thirty minute mark had passed, the normal stopping point for the first consultation, Gabriel just let her continue, already filling up his fifth page as she began to gesture and try to get her point across verbally.

 

Once an hour had hit, Gabriel finally decided that he had more than enough to work with.

 

“I’ll get started on all of them as soon as possible, although if you get more time to work on anything, please let me know,” he said, smiling kindly to her as she nodded, more relaxed around him now. Knowing that she was the girl his son was in love with certainly made things a bit more bittersweet on his end, although he didn’t quite understand why Adrien had suggested him to her if he knew it would just bring her around more often.

 

Although, Gabriel wasn’t exactly against meddling.

 

“We’ll have weekly appointments, if you’re alright with that,” he said as they both stood. Weekly appointments were uncommon. “I’ll expect your input in every step.” Extremely uncommon. “And please, let me know if there is anything else I may do to help you.” Such as offering his only son as the groom. Uncommon but he wasn’t going to turn it down if she requested it.

 

“Thank you so much, Mons – Gabriel,” she amended, and Gabriel smiled. Aurora would have fawned all over this girl. She probably would’ve managed a car and a priest for her and Adrien to elope as well. “I’ll see you next week then.”

 

“Same time, I’ll have Nathalie pen you in,” he said, straightening his suit as he opened the door for her, “Although, clear your schedule for two hours.” At her curious look, he explained. “Adrien doesn’t have many people over, I’m sure he’d love your company, and it will give you an extra break.” She blinked owlishly at him before nodding meekly, allowing him to gently shoo her out and giving directions to Adrien’s room that would help her go unnoticed by her cousin.

 

“Gabe, you ol’ softy,” a voice called and he sighed, rolling out his drawer to peer down at the kwami.

 

Belle remained cushioned in her little pincushion throne, pausing her video on his stolen tablet to float up to him, giving a cheeky little grin. He’d retired from being the holder for the Peacock Miraculous long ago, but…well, he was just too attached to hand her back over to Master Fu. If the old man came knocking, he’d certainly hand his companion back over, but until that time came he was perfectly content to do his work with the kwami by his side.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he sniffed, rifling through his notes and circling things he wanted to include for sure.

 

“Uh-huh,” Belle hummed, sitting atop his desk with a cheesy grin. “And here I thought Aurora was the better matchmaker, but you’re giving her a run for her money.”

 

Gabriel scoffed, rolling his eyes and remembering how his wife used to go up to complete strangers on the street, insisting how cute of a couple they were until he ended up having to drag her off. Once Adrien had been born, the little boy had been an extra element to her ploys. “You could have children too, one day!” she’d insisted as Gabriel Agreste, upstart fashion designer, had been forced to drag his wife and son away from bothering complete strangers. What’d been more annoying as that she was always right.

 

Gabriel side-eyed Belle as she dove back to her drawer for chips, crunching away daintily. “Yeah, fuel your salt intake. Gotta keep those tears running.”

 

“You bully!” she cried with a sniff, but neither really meant it.

 

As Gabriel flicked through his notes, he couldn’t help but think that he’d much rather design this girl’s dress if it was Adrien she were marrying. And given the way she’d looked at his son, she probably thought the same. He wondered if sending her off to his son’s room were for the best ( _they’re teenagers! You know how teenagers are!_ his mind supplied.) but thought that, either way, it would give them a reprieve from what was going on outside their own little world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this before rushing around getting ready for work lol kill me i've worked every day this week and in retail help


	5. These Wounds Won't Seem to Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst angst everywhere and not a fluff to spare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys know that oftentimes, your comments and encouraging words help get me motivation to stay up late after work and school and get these chapters out to you  
> are you aware of how much i love y'all

Her fifteen-year-old self would have died from spontaneous combustion at the mere idea of sitting in Adrien’s bedroom, playing video games, and having a normal conversation.

 

She also would have died at the fact that she’d kicked off her heels, flopped on his couch, and proceeded to kick his ass in Ultimate Mecha Strike V – Coder’s Revenge. While upside down.

 

“C’mon – God damn it – shit – _Marinette!_ ” Adrien bemoaned, sitting forward in his seat and glaring at the television screen as he button-mashed his controller, twisting his arms as he tried in vain to gain some leverage over her.

 

Marinette merely chuckled, upside down with her legs thrown over the back of his pristinely white couch. It’d taken precisely thirty-two minutes into their first gaming session to break through the awkwardness, and another forty minutes to calm Adrien down after hearing what Ben had said in the car prior to her appointment with his father. And now, here on her third visit into his bedroom, she was as relaxed and as comfortable as could be.

 

It was nice, she realized, just being able to take an hour once a week for herself, to play video games and not think about ruling a country, or marrying someone she didn’t love, or paparazzi, or anything other than kicking robot ass.

 

Adrien flung his controller on the other cushion after she’d won yet another round, sighing and pouting over at her as she grinned and wiggled her eyebrows cheekily. It was still hard to be around him sometimes, because it still made her heart pound to be in such close proximity with him, but somehow she managed. Probably because she knew that he would never feel the same way.

 

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is game over,” she declared, stretching and wincing when she heard her back pop.

 

“Third time in a row,” he scoffed with a grin, “You could let me win, you know.”

 

“Hey, I let you be player one,” she countered as she flipped herself around, leaning to look in the darkened screen of his computer monitors to use as a mirror, picking at her hair and grimacing.

 

“I have actual mirrors, you know,” he sassed, grinning as she huffed and stood to walk to his bathroom to pick at her appearance. He followed, still talking, leaning against the doorway as he watched her unravel a braid. “Do you use cheats? I feel like you use cheats.”

 

“I’m offended!” she shouted, digging through her purse for a makeup bag. “It’s pure talent and skill, thank you very much. All about the timing.”

  
He hummed, shrugging, “I think you just have an overabundance of luck. Nobody’s that good at Mecha Strike.”

 

She brushed the top of Tikki’s head, gave a small smile, before pulling out her makeup bag. “Nah, have you seen me walk? I use all of my luck for putting one foot in front of the other.”

 

He hummed, unconvinced, before leaning against the counter and watching her touch up her makeup in the mirror. “Maybe it’s your stats? Do you use power-ups that I don’t know about?”

  
“If you’d look away from how low your health bar is, you’d know,” she responded cheekily.

 

“Me-ouch!” he laughed, “Who knew you had claws?”

 

Her smile faltered, which she masked as she put on lip balm. Chat Noir was hard to be around, knowing that he was fully in love with her and still comforting her when she was falling apart. Plus, the fact that he knew her identity, accepted and loved her as she was, only made her have fuzzy feelings for the cat that she wouldn’t decipher.

 

“You okay?” Adrien asked, looking at her with concern, and made her blink back at him before smiling sweetly.

 

“Yup, I’m good,” she responded before he drew himself up to his full height and crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a pointed look. “I’m…conflicted.”

 

He urged her to continue, silently as he relaxed and leaned back against his counter.

 

“It’s…very hard, pretending to be in love with someone,” she admitted, picking at her nails and wanting to bite at the acrylic there. “Especially when…you…may love someone else….”

 

He blinked, but still said nothing, keeping the look of faint surprise on his face.

 

“I…can’t do anything about it,” she stated, “And I feel like…I keep leading him on now. Because I know how he feels about me. And I’m starting to…but I can’t. I can’t wait and see and figure out how I feel about him, because I have to marry Ali. Who’s great! He’s a super swell guy! I just…don’t feel fuzzy on the inside when I talk to him. I actually dread talking to him, but hey! That’s who I’m marrying! At eighteen!” She groaned, pitching herself to the side and hitting her head against drywall, leaning there as she rubbed at her temples.

 

“Hey,” Adrien insisted, placing his hand on her back and rubbing soothing circles there, “This guy…I’m sure he gets it. I’m sure he understands that at this point…there’s not much else you can do.”

 

“But I’m hurting him,” she whispered, lifting her head as Adrien put his hands on her shoulders, giving her a soft smile that still made butterflies flutter around her ribcage. “I never want to hurt him.”

 

Adrien squeezed, still softly smiling, “I know. And I’m sure he knows too. He understands what you’re going through, whether or not he knows the full extent of things, and he knows that you’re not able to…reciprocate his feelings. But that doesn’t mean that he’s going to stop having those feelings for you. It doesn’t mean he’s just going to outright abandon you, especially not when you need him.”

 

“I’ve put him through hell,” she whispered softly, eyes watering, wondering faintly if she put on waterproof eyeliner that day. “I’ve…well, there’s two guys. This guy is just…more recent? And it’s hard because we’re best friends and he’s always protected me and been there for me and – and – and – ”

 

“Sshh,” Adrien interrupted, holding her close and wrapping her up in his arms, trying to squeeze the sadness out of her. “It’s okay. This guy totally gets it, I promise, if he’s been there for you that much. You get a say in everything, too, Marinette, it’s your life. This guy understands that. You get a choice, you should always get a choice.”

 

“I don’t now,” she murmured, and he hummed as he squeezed tighter.

 

“I’d fix it for you, if I could,” he muttered, and Marinette gripped him tight.

 

“I wouldn’t want you to. I wouldn’t want you to go through this,” she answered, and she was confused as to why he drew in a big, deep, shuddering breath.

 

“I’m so sorry, Marinette,” he said, quietly, so quietly she wouldn’t have known he’d said anything if she hadn’t been pressed against his chest.

 

“It’s okay,” she said before he gave a warning squeeze.

 

“It’s not okay,” he insisted.

 

She pulled away, wiping away a stray tear with a small smile as Adrien watched her, a heartbroken look on his face, and Marinette merely assumed that Adrien was simply very empathetic and cared about his friends a lot. She stepped back, letting Adrien’s loose grip on her fall, grabbing her purse and taking a deep breath as she felt Tikki immediately press into her hip for comfort. “I know,” she answered before squeezing his shoulder, almost afraid to touch him for too long. “I’ll see you next week, okay?”

 

He nodded, smiling, and she showed herself out of his room.

 

“How many times did you want to tell her today?” Plagg asked, floating down from where he’d hidden in the bookshelf.

 

“So many,” Adrien whispered brokenly, hand over his heart as he walked to turn off the television. “She…loves _Chat_ , Plagg.”

 

“I know, kid,” he said, floating over to rest on his shoulder, petting the shell of his ear. “I heard.”

 

Adrien gave a huge sigh before catapulting himself into the couch with a loud groan, Plagg yelping and remaining air born as his Chat Noir, protector of Paris, Miraculous holder, cursed his bad luck.

 

And Plagg chuckled as he perched on the back of the couch, smiling morosely as he knew it wasn’t the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last.

* * *

 

Marinette fidgeted as she perched on the couch of Ali’s hotel room, his advisor bustling around with her tablet as Ben sat on an armchair with his tablet, her and Ali about a mile apart on the couch and both as stiff as boards.

 

Even though they were engaged, they were barely given moments alone to talk about things or try to gain their footing in their brand-new relationship. Ben was always hovering around, or Ali’s advisor, or both, and they often drowned out the royalty with how loud they and their opinions were.

 

Although, for some reason, miraculously, they both vacated the room at the same time, and the two were able to breathe.

 

“Before they come back,” Ali began, “I just want to say that I’m sorry about all of this. The tensions were instigated by the Achu kingdom, by being greedy for more land, and my father has not yet signed the throne over to me yet. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t be putting you through this.”

 

“Thank you,” Marinette stated, knees pressed together because Ben had insisted she sit more like a lady. “I’m sorry that…I’ve been rather…cold, towards you.”

 

“I understand,” Ali agreed with a faint smile. They were silent for a few more moments, where Marinette bit the inside of her cheek and tried to talk herself out of this stupid idea she had in her head.

 

Maybe they could have something? If they could be left alone enough, she could grow to have feelings for him. After all, it happened to lots of people. Maybe. She’d have to research that. Or ask Tikki, who’d lived through all kinds of relationships.

 

“Ali…” Marinette began slowly, taking a deep breath and steadying her nerves, “Could I…that is, could _we_ …try to…uhm…?”

  
“Do you want to kiss and see if we have chemistry?” he blurted out.

 

“Oh thank God, you read my mind,” she breathed.

 

And so they sat, facing each other, neither wanting to make the first move, before Marinette finally took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pitched herself towards him.

 

His lips were soft, and smooth, and he kept his face shaved smoothly. He smelled like cinnamon and honey, almost like tea, and he cupped her cheek and that was pretty sweet of him to do.

 

But that was the extent of her feelings on the matter, and when they parted and opened their eyes, she knew that he felt rather much the same about the whole ordeal.

 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, “But…”

 

“I’m not Rose,” she finished for him, and by the startled look he adorned she knew she was right. “It’s okay! Really! You love Rose. I respect that.” She chewed on her lip, before starting to speak. “If…if you wanted, after we were married…you could – ”

 

“No,” Ali insisted, jaw set, “Rose…doesn’t deserve that. And neither do you. Or I. Nobody deserves that.”

 

“Thank you,” Marinette spoke before giving a startled laugh, “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

 

He finally cracked a grin and relaxed into the couch cushions, “Because I’ve been thinking it too, I guess.”

 

She chuckled and nodded, and when Ben entered the room he was immediately suspicious as to how well the two were getting along.

 

“Come along, Marinette, they need time to make another draft,” he said, and she and Ali shared a look as she stood and followed, head held high and shoulders set.

* * *

 

Chat Noir yelped as he dodged an attack, looking up at the rather large octopus that was attempting to scale the Eiffel Tower. Ladybug touched down next to him, yo-yo twirling, looking up at the six year old atop the cephalopod, waving a toy fishing pole and conjuring up more sea creatures to glide through the Parisian city streets.

 

“I have no idea how to get up there,” she admitted, face grim as her eyes scanned for possible answers.

 

“How’s about you cat-apult this cat?” he asked with a grin, “I’ll grab the kid on the way, get them down to ground level, and then we can fin-ish this. Maybe even go out for sushi after!”

 

She snorted, giving a small grin before zipping her yo-yo out to attach it to the lamp post across the street. “Get ready, kitty cat.”

 

They’d used the two lamp posts, her yo-yo, and his baton to get him up in the air, over the octopus, an arm around the kid and coming to a sudden halt at the ground, safe and sound as he was trying to wrestle the fishing pole out of the kid’s grasp.

  
“It’s mine!” he crowed, trying to jab his heels into Chat Noir’s shins. “Mine mine mine! Stupid cat!”

 

“He’s not stupid,” Ladybug countered, yanking the fishing pole away and snapping it in one, her yo-yo catching the butterfly and cleansing everything soundly.

 

The kid immediately stopped struggling, blinking at his surroundings before squealing when he saw who had him. Chat laughed, setting the kid down and sending him back off to his parents.  

 

Once everything was settled and safe, Chat turned to bump fists with his lady, smile quickly turning into a frown when he saw how red and puffy her eyes were under the mask. He immediately scooped her up, into his arms, and made his way up to the nearest roof, making it about six streets over before she detransformed and cuddled into him.

 

“I don’t need facial reconstruction, do I?” she asked meekly, and she stiffened as he growled lowly.

 

“No, you don’t, who told you that?” he asked before settling his hands on her shoulders to turn her to look at him. “Do they need a visit from a black cat?”

 

She chuckled, “No, I just…Ben, my cousin, kind of, he keeps talking about how I need botox or lip implants, or plastic surgery, or tons of makeup, and I….”

 

“You’re gorgeous, are you kidding?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Seriously, how do you beat the guys off of you? Is it with the yo-yo or do you have a bat?”

 

She giggled, wiping away a stray tear, “I’m sorry, it’s just…normally I’m never self-conscious about how I look – ”

 

“Good, you never should!” he interjected.

 

“ – but when I keep hearing about how I could be prettier….”

 

“Bugaboo, you’re beautiful,” he insisted, pecking the top of her head and noticing how she stiffened, only slightly, before relaxing fully into him and hugging him tight. He sighed when, a few moments later, his ring began to beep. “Lets get you down from this roof, hm?”

 

“That may be helpful,” she said, letting him set her down in an alleyway and both being reluctant to let go. He finally did, and she watched as he departed with a salute and disappeared across the horizon. “Tikki?” she called, sighing when her kwami appeared, “I think I love him.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Marinette,” Tikki said, cuddling into her cheek.

 

“I can’t tell him that,” she insisted.

 

“I know,” she agreed.

 

“It hurts,” she whispered.

   
“I know that too,” Tikki said, kissing the tears away as best as she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dubstep beat* Angst angst angst angst, angst-angst, angst


	6. Owner of the Lonely Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get just a little bit harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I'm surprised too.

Adrien was amazed at all the things that were going on in his life. Mainly amazed at how Marinette was Ladybug, and getting married, and the princess of a small country, but he could also be amazed at many other things in his life.

 

Like how much his dad was stepping up, and being there for him.

 

That part he was happily amazed at.

 

Gabriel would clear out an evening for the two of them, once a week, doing whatever struck their fancy. It mainly focused on watching movies, such as those that Gabriel deemed ‘classics’ and those that Adrien insisted his dad would love, eating popcorn or dinner in front of the television and talking to each other through out it.

 

Gabriel, upon noticing that Adrien was not exuberantly pulling up a movie at their designated together time, had made his way to his son’s room and stood hesitantly in front of the door. He could hear him, talking, choking on a sob once or twice, and Gabriel’s hand twitched when he heard another voice respond.

 

Gabriel wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the kwami sitting atop Adrien’s desk the night he’d heard his son’s cries, trying to play itself off as a toy, which would have very well worked if he didn’t have Belle snuggled into one of his ties in his closet. After the encounter, he’d ranted and raved to his own kwami about how Adrien was too young, had always been too young to be that Chat Noir that had a lunatic with a butterfly brooch chasing after him.

 

Belle, however, had drawn herself up regally and looked Gabriel square in the eyes.

 

“You were thirteen,” she responded, and that had the man quieting down. “Thirteen years old, with that tiny little scowl that had no business being on your face. And I fixed that for you. Made you happy, gave you a companion, gave you an escape. Plagg is doing that for Adrien. Haven’t you noticed that he’d been, at least, a little bit happier since Chat Noir and Ladybug have been prancing around?”

 

“I had no idea Aurora leaving would affect him so harshly,” Gabriel muttered as he perched himself on the edge of his bed, head in his hands as Belle followed to continue her lecture.

 

“It wouldn’t have if you’d been there for him,” Belle prodded, “Laid off of the extracurricular stuff, the schoolwork, the modelling. Let him be a normal teenage boy and figure out how to go through his life without his mom. But no – you didn’t know how to be there, how to offer comfort, so you loaded up his schedule so that maybe he wouldn’t notice. Because keeping busy is how you deal with things, and God, Gabe, you do it _fantastically_.”

 

“I never knew how to help him when he was crying,” he murmured, gaze travelling to the family pictures that he’d taken out of the hallways and family spaces and seemed to horde on the wall just ahead of the foot of his bed. Belle turned as well, gaze growing soft as she floated to look at the pictures too, looking at the last Christmas they’d had together, Aurora perched on Gabriel’s shoulders and Adrien doubled over laughing as they decorated the tree together. “I never knew what to do when I was crying.” Belle nodded faintly, looking at the earliest picture, the one of Gabriel and Aurora’s wedding day, the camera panned out to show the guests as well. All of Aurora’s family, her bridesmaid holding the leash to Gabriel’s old dog that had died years before Adrien had been born.

 

“You need to be there for him for this, Gabe,” Belle insisted, eyes glistening, “You can’t lock him away anymore. You can’t lock yourself away anymore.”

 

And so Gabriel stood, listening to the voices, wondering what he should do. Tell Adrien that he knew he was Chat Noir? Tell him about Belle? Tell him that it was okay to cry, that it was okay to want somebody to rant to, that he was here for him now and he’s sorry that he hadn’t been there before?

  
“Kid, c’mon,” the kwami – Plagg, Belle had called him – insisted faintly, “Dry your eyes. Your dad is expecting you. Maybe you should talk to him? He said he knew your situation, and I’ve only ever been a third party to Chat Noirs and Ladybugs.”

 

Gabriel took this as his cue, and knocked, giving Plagg time to run and hide as Adrien opened the door, face blotchy and red with smeared tears.

 

“Is having her over so much a bad idea?” he asked, and Adrien jumped a little, giving a startled laugh as he rubbed at an eye with the heel of his palm.

 

“No! No, I – I love spending time with her, thank you for that,” he said before biting his lip, “I think she’s in love with me, dad.”

 

Gabriel released a small sigh, taking his shoulder and leading him to the living room. “Tell me what happened.”

 

Adrien heaved a sigh and collapsed on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes as he tried to keep from crying again, although his voice shook. “I asked her if she was okay, started talking about how she may have feelings for this one guy, and didn’t want to hurt him, and didn’t want to keep hurting herself, and…it just kept sounding like me? And I tried not to act like I was thinking that, but she just…sounded like it was impossible for this guy to like her back. Which made me think it was me even more, because her friend told me that she’s had a huge crush on me for years and I’ve been too stupid to notice.”

  
Gabriel gave a soft snort at that, Adrien calming down enough to remove the arm over his eyes and stare blankly up at the ceiling.

 

“Do you want to come to my office?” Gabriel asked, and he stood to lead the way once Adrien had agreed, walking up the staircase and turning corridors together, silent but comfortable and in step with one another.

 

Gabriel pulled the door open, letting Adrien shut it behind him, rifling through his files until he opened up the girl’s. Adrien had sat himself down on the chair opposite his desk, and Gabriel faltered before he sat on the corner, to be closer to his son.

 

“I don’t quite know how you’re feeling, or what you’re thinking, and I think you may not know either,” Gabriel explained as Adrien looked wearily up at him, shoulders drooped and eyebrows furrowed. Gabriel reached forward and, just as his wife had done so many times before to himself, took his index finger and began to rub the space between his brows. Adrien caught onto the familiarity of it and huffed a laugh, letting the skin relax even though he looked so tired. “I’m showing you this so that you may decide for yourself. To think things through on your own and come to your own conclusion. And whatever that may be, I will stay by your side.”

 

Adrien nodded, leaning into Gabriel’s touch, which had turned into carding his fingers through his son’s soft hair. After a few moments, Gabriel handed him the file, and watched as he went through the dresses.

 

He’d organized them in such a way, starting with the two nameless bridesmaid’s dresses, each maintaining individuality, one dressy and light and the other sleek and poised, both needing more work on them as the weeks would continue. The third was Mademoiselle Césaire’s, and Adrien lingered on this one further, giving a faint smile at the touches and notes that were a mix of both his father’s writing and Marinette’s. He paused then, steeling his nerves, before he turned to the next pages, filled with wedding dresses, each different but certain elements circled for each design. Off the shoulder, strapless, sweetheart neckline, you name it, it was probably there. All of them white, and pristine, and elegant. Not girly and sweet and romantic that both Adrien and Marinette knew would suit her better.

 

Adrien wordlessly handed back the file, and Gabriel wordlessly placed it back in his filing cabinet, and they wordlessly walked out of the office, back to the living room, and watched something with Steve Martin in it.

* * *

 

Marinette huffed as she fixed her watch, glancing at the time and giving an irritated huff before focusing on her makeup and hair.

 

She had an interview with Nadja Chemak directly after her meeting at the Agrestes’, so her gaming time with Adrien had been cut in half in order to accommodate any traffic. Plus, she had to look nice, nice enough that she could tell Ben to fuck off should he try to start anything with her, and Tikki was encouraging her to deck him should she feel the need arise.

 

“On fleek,” Tikki murmured to herself, Marinette grinning at her kwami in the mirror as she flicked her wrist and captured the perfect wing to her eyeliner. Now, the real challenge, of getting the other side to match. “On point!” she chirped once she was done with the other side, Marinette chuckling in response as the thousands year old god of creation and luck learned slang.

 

“What do you say, Tikki? Should we go for contouring today?” she asked, holding up her crème stick.

 

The red kwami mused, thinking it over carefully before deciding against it, “No, you would look too different. However, some highlighter and a light blush would be perfect!”

 

She loved her kwami, she decided as she did as she was told, pouting at her reflection once she was done and humming as she realized Tikki was doing the same. It looked perfect, she agreed, but there was something missing that would definitely complete the look. Marinette looked over her appearance, wondering if it was something with her outfit, and decided that the black dress and the heels should remain simple.

 

“I know!” Tikki crowed, diving into her makeup bag and popping back out with a cherry red lip gloss that Marinette had only ever used for Halloween. “Some red to give you extra Ladybug luck today!”

 

Marinette considered it, applying it carefully and studying herself before agreeing and dropping the tube into her purse, grinning at her reflection and tucking her hair back behind an ear as Tikki whistled in appreciation.

 

“There’s my Ladybug!” she insisted, bumping her tiny hand to Marinette’s bare shoulder, “You rock this interview!” She kissed her cheek before diving into Marinette’s purse, Marinette still giggling at her enthusiasm and encouragement.

 

Being interviewed, Marinette had found, made her extremely nervous and worried that she’d blow her cover. Nadja was still kind to her, and Manon was sure to be there to visit, and so it would hopefully go easier than the previous ones had.

 

So, in high spirits and determined to put her best foot forward, Marinette set out for the Agreste mansion, wondering if Adrien would be opposed to about thirty minutes of the Sims today.

* * *

 

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this, oh god,” Adrien bemoaned, settling his face in his hands before tearing them through his hair and looking at his reflection. “Why do I always get so nervous when I decided to – to – ”

 

“Profess your undying love to Ladybug?” Plagg finished unhelpfully, snickering as Adrien gave a low whine.

 

“She’s getting married!” Adrien crowed, pacing around his bathroom. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t even be _thinking_ this. What am I expecting to happen? That she’ll drop the marriage and go into a huge war, all in order to be with me?”

 

“Stranger things have happened,” Plagg shrugged, “I mean, look at Helen and Paris.”

 

“They got thousands of people killed, Plagg,” Adrien argued.

 

“But they were together,” he insisted.

 

“You’re impossible,” he muttered.

 

“They even made history books!” he continued.

 

“For getting people killed!” Adrien stressed, looking around his medicine cabinet for a cologne that wouldn’t make him puke from nervousness. “Nobody wants to be in history books for that!”

 

Plagg hummed, agreeing, watching Adrien seemingly sort each individual hair on his head with distress. He gave a large sigh, which went unnoticed, and murmured to himself, “I consider myself lucky to never worry about love.”

 

“Why?” Adrien asked dully, “Because you have cheese?”

 

Plagg gave a soft snort, rolling his eyes and floating over to boop him on the nose and get him to stop fussing over his appearance, “Kid, do you really think that I’ve been one half to a whole for eons, and I haven’t fallen in love with my counterpart?” At this admission, Adrien finally stopped and gaped at Plagg. “You’re not the only cat in love with a bug. The only reason I say I never worry is because I know that we’re made for each other. I was made to counter her, she was made to better me. Just like you were made to bring balance to Marinette, she was made to do the same for you. You are perfect for her as you are, and you don’t need to worry about your appearance, or what you’re going to say to her, because you two are made to fit together.”

 

“Plagg,” Adrien murmured, holding out his hands as Plagg floated down to rest in them, “I had no idea.”

 

“Don’t get yourself worked up further over an already bad situation,” he insisted, poking his thumb and giving a grin, “Do what you do best, and look on the bright side. You’ve always been the most optimistic Chat Noir, and I’ve always loved that about you.”

 

“You have?” Adrien asked cheekily, bringing the tiny god of destruction up to his grin.

 

“Now don’t go getting a big head, or your cat ears won’t fit anymore,” he stated with a snort. “Just relax as best as you can, and do your best. Don’t try to overextend yourself.”

 

And with that and a knock at the door, Plagg hid in the little niche for the soap in the shower, Adrien taking a fortifying breath as he moved to his door and opened it with a bright grin before it faltered.

 

Oh God. Oh God he couldn’t do this. Oh God oh God oh God.

 

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we’ll have to make game time short today,” she sighed, and he saw her mouth forming the words, but that was where his brain disconnected because, ladies and gentlemen, she was wearing _bright red lipstick_. She entered the room past him, setting her purse on the edge of his desk, moving to look through the amount of computer games he had in his shelves directly by it. “Do you have the Sims? That should be quick enough that we won’t have stop right in the middle of anything.”

 

Adrien couldn’t speak, he just kept watching her mouth move and before he knew it she was looking at him, curiously at first before her cheeks began to redden and he slowly turned his gaze up to her eyes before they darted back down to her lips, parted slightly in surprise and…

 

And, okay, Adrien knew he could be a giant idiot around Ladybug. Like becoming a human shield for things that she could total handle on her own, that was pretty stupid, and he recognized that, but it didn’t mean that he would stop any time soon. And not noticing that Marinette had a crush on him for literal years was pretty stupid as well.

 

But this?

 

Well, this was a certain kind of stupid he could totally get behind.

 

Because he’d lurched forward and captured her lips with his own, cupping her cheeks in a tender gesture as her mouth opened in a gasp before she began to kiss him back with fervor, groaning into his mouth as he felt sparks fly, and warmth coiled in his chest as she ran a hand through his hair and sighed, relaxing into his grip like she belonged there.

 

She was so warm, and so soft, her lips smooth and supple as his tongue slid past them, her waist moving with him as he sat in his desk chair and she kneeled over him, brushing her fingers across his stubble and giving an appreciative hum, taking to nipping at his lips as he let her take control.

 

All too soon it was over, and they were parted, and the look of shock on her face suddenly made Adrien realize that even though this was an _amazing_ experience, it was still such a stupid one.

 

“I – I can’t,” she panted, flushed and red and still kneeling over him as he leaned back in his chair to give her more room, her fingers gripping the back of the headrest tightly. “Oh my God, Adrien, I can’t.”

 

“I know,” he whispered faintly.

 

“I want to,” she whimpered, head tilting up to the ceiling, “Oh my God, for years, I’ve –”

 

“I know that too,” he admitted, realizing his hands were still on her waist and not sure where else to put them. “I’m sorry I’m stupid. I’m sorry I waited so long.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back, a couple of tears sliding down her cheeks as he took his useless hands and brushed them away.

 

“Don’t be,” he said before giving a small laugh, resting his forehead against hers as her eyelids fluttered shut to keep more tears out, “Oh God, don’t be sorry. Never be sorry, Marinette.”

 

It took a few more minutes of them in that position, her trying not to break down sobbing and Adrien trying to keep it together for a few more minutes, before she pulled away and stood to straighten her dress.

 

“T-there are makeup wipes in the bathroom,” he told her, “Top drawer.”

 

She blinked before she noticed the red all around his lips, smudged and disheveled and she still had half a mind to add more there before she took a deep breath, nodded, and turned to fix her makeup. Adrien took several deep breaths, eyes squeezed shut and trying hard not to bang his forehead against the desk at his own unbelievable stupidity. He was surprised when he felt something wet touch against his forehead, a clean makeup wipe in her hand as she fidgeted and bit her newly cleaned lip, a faint red tint around her mouth.

 

He took the wipe with a small smile that couldn’t reach his eyes, wiping off his own mouth before becoming surprised when she pressed her index finger between his brows and rubbed.

 

“You’ll get worry lines because of me if you keep doing that,” she joked, still trying to make things better even though she wasn’t sure how, and she was surprised when she saw the tears gather more quickly in his eyes, retracting her hand almost as if he’d burned her. “I-I’m sorry.”

 

“Never be sorry, Princess,” he whispered brokenly, still smiling up at her, because he still loved her so much and he knew that if things were just a little bit different, then maybe it would have worked. He was aware that a few tears slipped out, but he didn’t care as she used the pads of her fingertips to wipe them away. “I’m not.”

 

She bit her lip before nodding, grabbing her purse, “Me neither.”

 

He exhaled, nodding once, before she left without another word.

 

“Oh, Kid,” Plagg said as he hurried to his side, swiping away a few more tears with his little paws, “That…could have gone better. I’m sorry.”

  
“It’s okay,” Adrien said with a heartbroken smile as he stood from his seat, the very one they’d been pressed into moments ago, “I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

 

Plagg wanted to argue, he did, but he wasn’t sure he knew what to say anymore. So he curled up at the base of his neck, purred loudly to try to heal it, and let Adrien sob his heart out into his hands.

 

Plagg only wished that his form was a little bit bigger so Adrien would have more to hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise there will be fluff but there's gotta be some angst first i mean come on look at them


	7. Would Have Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabine isn't sure how to feel. Actually I'm not sure if anybody does.

Sabine knew something was wrong. She’d been in the middle of talking to a customer, and had immediately stopped, her mouth set in a grim line and Tom instantly taking over before the customer could even blink.

 

Her phone was ringing.

 

Granted, it was in her back pocket and on vibrate, but it was ringing.

 

Her friends knew that she always worked at the bakery, especially during Saturday afternoons so that her family could have Sundays off, so they rarely called unless it was a major emergency.

 

Which meant it was Marinette. Who only called when she was out if something was wrong or if she was about to pick up food.

 

And Sabine instantly picked up.

 

“What’s wrong, cupcake?” she asked, and was unsurprised to hear Marinette’s little hiccup.

 

“I – I’m coming home early,” Marinette managed, voice warbling. She’d been crying. “I’m slipping through the back. I just wanted to let you know….”

 

Tom was already untying the back of Sabine’s apron, giving her a peck on the cheek before ushering her up the stairs.

 

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you soon,” Sabine cooed, letting Marinette hang up as she got out the Neapolitan ice cream, the cherry syrup, and slicing two bananas in half. Once Marinette was trying to quietly make her way up the stairs and sniffling to herself, she was presented with a big bowl of ice cream and a softly smiling mother.

 

“How do you always do that?” Marinette asked, smiling as she took the cold bowl from her.

 

“Because I’m your mother,” she insisted, pecking her on the forehead before following her up to her room, sitting on the chaise lounge beside her and digging into her own bowl, letting Marinette sniffle for a few moments before she spoke on her own.

 

“Adrien kissed me today,” she said, and Sabine stiffened, making a low hum as she worked on her banana.

 

Sabine had been a princess. Key word being “had.” Annette had been declared queen once the two were nearing adulthood, and Sabine had breathed a sigh of relief. Had started considering culinary schools across the world, had dreamt of a pretty little patisserie in Paris. Annette had laid in her floor every night, going through law and history books alike, insisting to be showered in meringues once Sabine had gotten good enough.

 

Sabine had entertained royalty before. Neighboring dukes and lords all looking at a title upgrade. She’d kissed a few before realizing that they saw her as a way to the throne once her sister had rebuffed them, and had ended up humiliating them with the help of Cecilia.

 

And Sabine had fallen in love, in a tiny little culinary school on the outskirts of Paris where nobody knew her family or her heritage, and she’d been so awestruck by the feeling whenever he smiled at her that she’d dumped an entire bowl of cake batter on him. She’d very nearly cried until he’d swiped a stripe of his shirt clean and eaten it off of himself, grinning at her and insisting that she was a brilliant baker.

 

And Sabine used to have nightmares of her mother, frigid and cold and unforgiving, staring down Tom until he’d relented and let Duke Stuffyshirt take his place, letting her be miserable for the rest of her life.

 

But he hadn’t. He’d smiled and bowed and kissed her ring and said that he’d fallen in love with Sabine and would love to marry her, with her parents’ blessing, if Sabine would have him.

 

He didn’t have their blessing. Sabine hadn’t cared. She was in love.

 

So Sabine sighed, set aside her ice cream, and cupped her daughter’s face, staring into those watery blue eyes and smiling when she saw a little bit of Tom in them.

 

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she murmured, holding her close to her chest and letting Marinette sob against her, clutching at her tightly and getting makeup smeared over the both of them.

 

“H-he kissed _me_ ,” she whispered, gripping her mother close as if she were her life line. “I never thought that would happen, and now with this whole princess thing…”

 

“Adrien would never see you as a title,” Sabine insisted, pulling away to swipe the tracks of eyeliner off of her daughter’s face. “He would always light up when he saw you. I think the boy was just too clueless to figure out his own feelings, let alone yours. But now that he has to see you with someone else….”

 

Marinette heaved a heavy sigh, and Sabine kept wiping off the makeup with all the tissues she’d kept in her pockets. She knew that sigh. It was a hard sigh to have when you’re trying to get your life in order and run a country.

 

Sabine set her mouth, clutching Marinette’s shoulders as her cleaned face stared back at her. “Marinette…. You’re not obligated to go through with this. With all of this. It is your _life_. You deserve to be happy. Anything else can take a back seat.”

 

She’d wanted to tell Annette that so many years ago.

 

But Marinette shook her head, jaw set and looking older than she should have ever looked. “This is for Astrucia. For the country you, and Aunt Annette, and Aunty Ce grew up in. For the thousands of people who want to grow up there too. I refuse to let someone else, someone who doesn’t come from the history or the culture, to take control of the country. Or Ben, he’s not getting control of it either. It’s not what I want. I know I didn’t grow up there, or visit much, but it’s my home just as much as Paris is. I will protect it as best as I can.” She bit her lip, looking down at the bowl of ice cream in her hands, “If that means giving up Adrien…then I would do it.”

 

Sabine sighed, rubbing at the muscle underneath Marinette’s shoulders. They were quiet, sharing each other’s presence.

 

“The only thing I ever wanted for you,” she insisted, staring into her baby’s eyes. “Was for you to fall in love.”

 

Marinette shut her eyes, smiling to herself, sad and hurt but still so happy. “I have.” _Twice_ , she admitted, to herself.

 

“I know,” she murmured, holding her close again and petting her soft hair. “I know, cupcake.”

 

After fifteen minutes of holding each other, Tom clambered up the stairs and wrapped the two of them in a big bear hug, not asking any questions and simply being there to hold his two favorite girls. Once asked about the bakery, he simply shrugged, as if he himself weren’t sure, getting more ridiculous with each question, soon enough getting Marinette to grin and laugh at him.

 

Her parents helped her pick out different clothes, her mother helped her pull her hair into a bun while she did her make up, and the two watched her stride off to her interview.

 

Tom settled his hand on Sabine’s shoulder, warm and comforting and holding all of the love she could ever need.

 

“Our baby’s hurting, Tom,” she whispered, in the back with the cakes they were still working on for the day.

 

Tom released a sigh, nodding, echoing her thoughts, “And we can’t do anything. We can only help where we can.”

 

“She’s always wanted to be with Adrien,” she said before scoffing, “Hell, _we_ always wanted her to be with Adrien.”

 

Tom chuckled, nodding, kneading the dough for tomorrow’s rolls. “I know, my love. He would have been perfect for her.”

 

Would have been. Would have been the perfect gentleman, would have loved Tom’s puns, would have spoken Mandarin with her, would have taken care of Marinette and kept her sane and happy and laughing and loved. Would have asked for her hand in marriage, would have accepted any and all advice on how to propose, would have probably cried when she’d walked down the aisle. Would have loved any children they had and would have been a perfect addition to the weekly family dinners where Tom and Sabine could spoil their grandchildren.

 

Tom wrapped Sabine up in a hug, swaying her in the kitchen and letting her find her comfort in him, in his warmth and the way he always smelled so sweet and felt so soft.

 

“I know,” he said as she tried not to cry, failing miserably and hiding her face in his chest, “I know.” His voice cracked, and neither said anything more.

* * *

 

Marinette stared down at her desk, shoulders hunched forward and not looking at anybody or anything. She hated going to school nowadays, always dodging paparazzi or nosy students. Now she hated it because she started off her day with trying her damnedest not to look in Adrien’s general direction, because then she’d start to cry and Alya would definitely know that something was Up.

 

Adrien, at least in her peripheral vision, looked – for the first time in his life – like shit. His hair was everywhere, he was yawning profusely, and he looked like he had bag under his eyes, but still yet nobody said anything. Nino shot him a few empathetic glances, so he must know, and oh god if _Nino_ knew then that meant –

 

“Anything you would like to share with me today?” Alya asked in her greeting, hushed and soft and as caring as can be.

 

“Not yet,” Marinette admitted, and she nodded and turned her conversation into the upcoming events that seniors would be able to participate in.

 

“Class,” Monsieur Marcielle began, clapping his hands twice for attention, “I just wanted to let you know that the class valedictorian has been decided, and its someone in this class!”

 

“Max,” Alix answered, causing small bursts of laughter as Marcielle’s face dropped.

 

“Not shocking,” Kim insisted, ruffling his best friend’s hair before freezing. “Hey man, you okay?”

 

Everyone turned to look over at Max, who looked like he was hyperventilating. “Uh-uhm, actually, Monsieur Marcielle, I, uhh…can’t….”

 

“Why not, Max?” Marcielle asked, ascending the stairs to look at him in concern.

 

“I may be comfortable talking to everyone here, but that’s because most of these people I’ve grown up with,” he said as he nervously wiped at his glasses, Kim settling a comforting hand on his shoulder. Which was true, as most of the kids in their home room were those they’d had in previous classes for numerous years in a row. “But public speaking, is…very different. I’m honored for the position, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

 

“What about your transcripts?” Sabrina asked, more outspoken since Chloe was in another homeroom. “Wouldn’t that be good for college applications?”

 

“What if you had someone up there with you, to ease the pressure?” Kim asked, worried, “You do better around people you know.”

 

Marcielle hummed, hand on his chin, “That could work! The runner up was close enough anyway, you could simply split up the speech however you’re comfortable.”

  
“That would be better,” Max sighed, hand on his chest, “Who’s the runner up?”

 

“Adrien,” Marcielle stated with a smile, turning to catch Adrien finally turning around to blink back at him in surprise. “What do you say? Feel up to the challenge?”

 

Adrien blinked, catching Marinette’s gaze for a few seconds before he gave a feeble smile and nervously ran a hand through his hair, “I’ll try my best!”

 

After that and several congratulations, Adrien all but slammed his face into his desk, Marinette scrunching lower in her seat and Alya and Nino wanting nothing more than to hold their best friends close and promise that everything would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking that things may be coming to a conclusion soon...muauahahaha.....


	8. There Goes Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some major adjustment's being made.  
> And not just about the clothes.

Adrien was the world’s biggest idiot, he was sure. Because he did things without thinking them through.

 

Like kissing Marinette. Didn’t think that one through, and she hadn’t so much as looked at him for weeks.

 

Agreeing to be co-valedictorian with Max. Involved a lot of planning and speech researching that he just didn’t have the brain power for.

 

Letting his dad cut him back on modeling. It would’ve been nice to focus on something other than how big of an idiot he was and in how much pain he was. But, he also recognized that it probably wouldn’t have turned out too well.

 

Agreeing to be Prince Ali’s fucking groomsman with Nino, since the poor prince didn’t have any friends and thought it’d be alright if he borrowed some of Marinette’s?

 

He’s pretty sure his IQ is below ten at this point.

 

“Dude,” Nino hissed, slipping into the same dressing room as Adrien as he glared at his reflection, in the stupid tux they were trying on and the stupid tie and the stupid…stupid everything. “Okay, if you didn’t want to do this, why didn’t you just say no? The guy’s gonna get suspicious if you keep looking like you want to feed him to the lions.”

 

Hmm. Lions. Great idea.

 

“Thought it’d look bad if I did say no,” he muttered, straightening his collar with a huff before glancing at Nino’s reflection and snorting. “Arm.”

 

Nino’s arm jutted out towards him, the sleeves flapping against his wrist as Adrien fiddled with the cufflinks for him.

 

“Thanks,” Nino said, before continuing, “Dude, I’ve gotta ask…is this thing for Mari recent?”

 

Adrien faltered on the second cufflink, looking down at the shiny metal. “No…not really.”

Nino exhaled slowly, trying not to stay frustrated at his friend. “Why didn’t you do anything sooner?”

 

Adrien shrugged, half heartedly, trying to think of something to say rather than the truth. “Felt like…like she wouldn’t want to be with me?” A half-truth.

 

“Bro,” Nino sighed, tugging his shirt collar out from under the jacket. “Why would you even think that?”

 

“She always had trouble being around me,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and making it stand on end, “I thought…I thought she hated me.”

 

“I think there are very few people Marinette could hate,” he said, fixing Adrien’s hair for him. “Aside from Chloe, but there’s reason for that.”

 

Adrien nodded, absently. Nino heaved a giant sigh, and placed his hands on his shoulders to get him to focus on him. “If we were having this conversation at a different time, with different circumstances, I would say something totally different. Hell, there’s nobody else who want you and Mari together more than Alya and I. But, dude…she’s gotta do this. She’s gotta step up and be a princess, or a queen, or whatever is going down.” Nino sat on the bench provided for the elaborate, spacious dressing room, and Adrien sat next to him with his head in his hands. “And we…I mean, we don’t like this, Alya’s heart is breaking for her, but we’re not gonna bail on her. So we’re gonna fake it, make things easier on her, but don’t think for a second that we’re okay with all of this, man.”

 

Adrien sighed, heavily, lifting his head and staring at his reflection with the dark circles under his eyes and the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I don’t know why I agreed to this. I’ll have to be up close when she….”

 

“Yeah, and that’s gonna suck,” Nino said, barking a laugh at Adrien’s reproachful pout as he clapped his back, “It is, bro! I’m not about to lie to you. But…I dunno, dude.” He relapsed into thoughtful silence, his hand still on Adrien’s back, “Maybe it’s a good way to say goodbye.”

 

But he didn’t want to say goodbye to her. Didn’t want to say goodbye to running around rooftops with her, laughing at her irritated face when he’d made a pun, turning to her in victory to bump their fists and flash a winning smile to her.

 

He didn’t want to say goodbye to his best friend, his other half.

 

But he would. If this is what she chose, and this is what she wanted to do, then he would suck it up and just…let go.

 

And so he fixed a fake smile on his face, looked to Nino for approval, who gave a sad little nod, and followed him out for measurements to be taken.

* * *

 

Marinette pressed the document against her bare knees, trying to focus on the legal jargon she’d been learning since she was twelve. It was about eleven o’clock at night, and two weeks from the wedding, three from graduating, and she was about ready to pull her hair out from everything.

 

There was only so much she could do, all in such short time. She was just thankful there hadn’t been an akuma attack on top of everything.

 

Well, maybe only half thankful. She hadn’t seen Chat in about a month, and she was getting worried about him. Hadn’t even seen him out along the rooftops, which was rare for the hero.

 

She wondered how she would feel if she did. It was bad enough seeing Adrien every day at school, looking worse for the wear every day, and trying to act like everything was fine.

 

Everything hurt, if she were being honest. She was tired of it.

 

She glanced to her jewelry box, where Tikki was snoozing, and wondered what would happen after the wedding, after graduation. Wondered what to do with her miraculous. She couldn’t very well protect Paris if she wasn’t in Paris, now could she?

 

That would hurt worse, she decided. Giving up Tikki, giving up Chat Noir, giving up Ladybug. That would probably kill her.

 

A knock at her door startled her, Tikki nuzzling further into the box even in her sleep so that Marinette could shut the lid just as someone opened the trap door and popped a designer handbag on the floor.

 

A stylish black head of hair popped out next, wide sunglasses peering out at her as she blinked in surprise.

 

“Jeez, I’m just glad you got stairs instead of a ladder,” Cecilia stated as she clambered up, perching the glasses up high and grinning at her as she gaped. “Do I get a hug? I came all this way in heels, missy!”

 

Marinette laughed, setting aside everything and throwing her arms around her aunt, who hugged her back as tight as possible. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

 

“Of course, sweetie, what kind of aunt would I be if I didn’t come to see you on your shitty day?” she asked, snorting at Marinette’s tiny laugh. “Yeah, I know, your mom told me all about it. How are you doing?”

 

“Awful,” she admitted, sitting back in her desk chair as Cecilia took to lounging on the chaise, kicking her heels off and dragging Marinette over closer to her. “I hate all of this.”

 

“Yeah, pumpkin, it’s no picnic,” she stated with a sigh, “Your mom and I watched Annette do it, and that was bad enough. You’re so young too….” She trailed off, and Marinette wrapped her arms around her knees. “Annette’s not doing good either, in case Ben hasn’t mentioned it,” she offered, and by Marinette’s distressed look she could tell he hadn’t. “Yeah, the little shit stain’s useless, who knew?”

 

Marinette giggled, and Cecilia winked, unzipping her jacket and throwing it off behind her. “Why did you wear heels anyway? Didn’t you get off a plane?”

 

“Well yeah, but I want those TSA assholes to lug my hefty shoes around,” she countered with a grin.

 

Marinette laughed, grinning at her as Sabine poked her head in.

 

“It’s a school night, Cecilia, don’t keep Marinette up later than it already is,” Sabine insisted before smiling softly at the two, “Goodnight, get some sleep!”

 

“Goodnight,” they chorused, letting her shut the door before Cecilia turned to look at Marinette curiously.

 

“What are you doing up so late, anyway?” she asked, blinking at Marinette’s blanch.

 

_Debating my future as a hero. Reading over the terms and conditions of my future as a princess. Waiting to see if a black cat will stop by. Wondering what I’d say to him if he did._

 

“Oh, I was just, uhh…” she sighed, wheeling over to take the document and pass it back to her, “Reading that.”

 

Cecilia hummed, eyebrows furrowing as she read, biting the inside of her cheek as she flipped through pages before she stopped, brows arching now, and let out a small whistle.

 

“Is this the final draft?” she asked, quietly.

 

Marinette arched one of her own eyebrows, “Yes, why?”

 

Cecilia took out her phone and began to type, glancing at the document once or twice before she began to grin.

 

“Sweetheart, how vindictive and dramatic are you?” she asked, lashes fluttering and the Cheshire smile on her face reminding her an awful lot of someone.

 

“Depends,” she said with a smirk, “What are you thinking?”

 

“Thinking about giving hell,” she insisted before dragging Marinette’s chair over by her, bending their heads together and speaking in low, hushed tones.

 

At two thirty that morning, three people received text messages.

 

One responded at five in the morning.

 

One responded at eight in the morning.

 

One responded immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (¬‿¬)


	9. Chapels and Churches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys hear bells...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *kazoo noises bc here's another chapter!!!*

Death.

 

He wanted it.

 

Mainly to escape this sort of torture.

 

She was _everywhere._

 

Every news outlet was showing her face, broadcasting her voice, showing her twirling around in a pretty pink skirt that she made herself and looking every bit of the princess that she was, all rosy cheeked and smiles and giggles while he looked and felt every bit of the toad he was.

 

She’d even been over more and more, and his father was more frenzied than he’d ever seen him get with other bridal projects, but he supposed that it was the amount of recognition and fame that was about to be shoved onto the dresses. Not that Gabriel Agreste’s work didn’t ever have fame or recognition on them, but perhaps a royal wedding was a bigger hubbub? He wasn’t sure.

 

What he was sure of, however, was that he would rather die than to see her, in the foyer, in skinny jeans and sandals and a floral top as she texted someone rapidly, while he was trying to sneak from the kitchen to his room with a bowl of cereal in his – oh dear god – in his Ladybug pajama pants.

 

She’d looked up right as he’d halted, wondering if he could retreat back into the kitchen, because why would she ever go into the kitchen, and her mouth parted as she stared back at him.

 

“Uhh,” he said before gulping down the mouthful of Cheerios he had, wincing when he realized that he hadn’t exactly chewed a few of them. “Hey. Marinette.”

 

“A-Adrien,” she blinked, fiddling with her phone as it continued to buzz furiously at her. “Err. H-how are you?”

 

“I’m…” He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t fine. How could he be fine? Did she even want him to be fine? “Uhh....” Okay, Agreste, you haven’t said anything for scarily long and she’s looking at you like she wants to help somehow. Say something, literally anything. “Cheerios.” He lifted the bowl, as if that would clarify something for her.

 

She blinked again, mouth quirking up, and he considered drowning himself in the milk.

 

“Ah, Marinette, there you are,” Nathalie said, ushering into the room with her clipboard and nudging her up the stairs, “Monsieur Agreste has been expecting you, go on up.”

 

She nodded, disappearing up the staircase with a practiced ease, and Nathalie mumbled and shook her head as she tapped away at her tablet.

 

“I don’t know why everything has been pushed aside for these dresses,” she murmured, looking up and blinking at Adrien as he still debated on drowning in the milk. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yup!” he exclaimed, not wanting anyone other than his father, Nino and Plagg to see him in such a state. “I’m gonna go watch Netflix, bye!”

 

Nathalie sighed as she watched him go, shaking her head as she fiddled with her tablet some more, “Alright, Marinette could be staying for dinner, or your father will work straight through it. Both may seem possible, actually.”

 

He paused on the landing, turning to look at Nathalie curiously, “What are they working so hard on, anyway?”

 

“The dresses,” Nathalie shrugged, shaking her head dubiously, “There were some last minute major changes, and normally your father would nullify them, but he’s…I’ve never seen him so enthusiastic about something.”

 

Adrien hummed, chewing a mouthful thoughtfully, nodding to Nathalie and exiting to his room where he downed the bowl and called for his kwami.

 

“What are you thinking?” Plagg asked, half awake as Adrien dangled a small piece of cheese before him.

 

“I’m going to spy on them, something is weird,” he said, Plagg floating up to his eye level.

 

“Kid, I’m warning you, I don’t want to see you get hurt even worse over this ordeal,” he said, poking him in the forehead so hard that Adrien had to rub at the spot. “Think this through for, like, ten more seconds and then I’ll think about it.”

 

Adrien thought about it for five before calling for his transformation, ignoring the curses Plagg called him as he did so.

 

Avoiding all of the security cameras like a champ, Adrien found himself to his father’s office, which was dark and empty and void of the scheming pair he was hunting. So, he took to his father’s studio, at the top of the house with the round dome ceiling he used to love to stare up at, peering in the window and seeing Marinette, with her feet up on a desk, hand-sewing something as Gabriel gestured wildly at designs pinned to the wall, Marinette agreeing with him with a laugh.

 

Chat Noir hummed, clicking open the screen on his baton and fiddling with the settings until he could hear anything in there, pressing the tip of it against the outside wall and listening intently.

 

“Careful,” Gabriel insisted, “It may have an on button, but one wrong move – ”

 

“I know, I know,” she agreed, pausing in her work as her phone beeped again, “Yes! She’s in!”

 

“Excellent!” Gabriel said, hopping into his swivel chair and moving to his sewing machine, “And the measurements?”

 

Marinette rattled off numbers that left Adrien stumped, even more so than he already was, and Gabriel got straight to work as Marinette finished with the…the white material, lifting it up so that beaded gems glittered in the light, admiring it with a soft, proud smile, the glasswork casting rainbows of colors on her skin.

 

Adrien clambered away from his hiding spot, zipping back into his room, and binge-watched Death Note, pensive and curious as Plagg snoozed in his hair.

* * *

 

Sabine only halfway felt as Cecilia tugged her along the makeup aisle, eager to help with Marinette’s look for tomorrow, humming and murmuring to herself as she looked at all of the lipstick colors, texting Marinette to get her opinion, Sabine feeling as if she were a ghost beside her sister.

 

Because she was getting a phone call.

 

It wasn’t Tom, who was busy kneading dough and wouldn’t be calling until two, when he’d put the croissants in the oven.

 

It wasn’t Cecilia or Marinette, who were texting each other.

 

So she reached into her pocket with a deep breath that made Cecilia still and look to her with wide eyes, the two shades of blue locked onto each other as they glanced at the caller ID and paled.

 

“Yes, this is Sabine Cheng?” she answered, and gripped Cecilia’s hand as she turned to give her her full attention, fearful tears in her eyes.

* * *

 

Ben triumphantly placed the paperwork into the proper folder, ready to be signed directly after the wedding ceremony. The advisors, king and prince had agreed to the papers signed there, and Marinette hadn’t said a word against them, a first for the little brat.

 

The papers, that he was so clearly proud of, stated that while Marinette was married to Ali, that she and any subsequent children she had would be ineligible for the throne. Leaving it open, upon his “mother’s” demise, for the next available ruler. Cecilia held no children, Marinette was an only child, and so that left him to reap what he’d already begun to sow.

 

Patting the manila envelope that held his bright and glorious future as ruler of Astrucia, he set it carefully in his briefcase for tomorrow, straightening his tie as he whistled his country’s anthem.

* * *

 

_“Sweetheart, how vindictive and dramatic are you?” she asked, lashes fluttering and the Cheshire smile on her face reminding her an awful lot of someone._

_“Depends,” she said with a smirk, “What are you thinking?”_

_“Thinking about giving hell,” she insisted before dragging Marinette’s chair over by her, bending their heads together and speaking in low, hushed tones._

_At two thirty that morning, three people received text messages._

_One responded at five in the morning._

 

 **Marinette Dupain-Cheng:** Sorry for the late hour, monsieur! But I have an urgent request, that I was hoping I could receive your help with, on the matter of my wedding and the bridal dresses?

 

 **Gabriel Agreste:** What did you have in mind?

_One responded at eight in the morning._

**BFF <3 <3 <3:** Ok I need u to trust me and go along with this but u are no longer the maid of honor

 **Alya, the Wonderful:** ok what the fuck I better get a hell of an explanation

 **BFF <3 <3 <3:** u will

 **BFF <3 <3 <3:** at the wedding

 **Alya, the Wonderful:** the fuck????

 **BFF <3 <3 <3:** I love u just trust me???? Ok?????

 **Alya, the Wonderful:** fine fine but I’m really curious???

 **BFF <3 <3 <3:** weeeelll hopefully things turn out but lmao who knows at this point

 **Alya, the Wonderful:** now im curious and really worried

 **BFF <3 <3 <3:** bitch me too the fuck

 **Alya, the Wonderful:** don’t meme at me rn are you ok???

 **BFF <3 <3 <3:** yes I promise just get ready for school and ACT NATURAL

 **Alya, the Wonderful:** offended that you capitalized that but fine, as you wish

_One responded immediately._

**Marinette:** Hey! So I know you probably hate me on principle right now, and I totally get that, but hear me out on this okay? I have an idea to get this whole mess worked around to where everyone’s happy, but I need your help.

 **Juleka:** What do you need me to do?

 **Marinette:** I need you to convince Rose to be a bridesmaid at the wedding.

 **Marinette:** I also need you as the maid of honor.

 **Juleka:** Uhm, what??

 **Juleka:** Marinette, Rose has been crying her eyes out since this whole mess started, she doesn’t even want to turn on her tv, and you want me to not only drag her into the church where her worst nightmare is taking place, but make her have a front row seat to it?????

 **Marinette:** ….yes????

 **Marinette:** it SOUNDS bad

 **Marinette:** I GET that

 **Marinette:** I just have a really dramatic plan that’s gonna get me in a ton of hot water and thought I would have fun with it???

 **Juleka:** ….

 **Juleka:** I’ll see what I can do

 **Juleka:** but no promises ok?

 **Marinette:** Yes! Thank you so much!!!!!

 **Marinette:** I’m going to get them happy again, I promise!!!

 **Juleka:** I hope you do..

* * *

 

Adrien robotically tied the tie for Nino, wincing when it turned out crooked for the one hundredth time as Nino stood, patiently waiting for him as he texted Alya.

 

“Take your time, man,” he said, calmly, giving Adrien a small smile before returning his gaze to his phone. “The girls are getting dressed. Apparently Mari’s aunt Cecilia is kind of taking over? Dunno where her mom is, isn’t it a mom thing to hover on their daughter’s wedding day?”

 

Adrien shrugged, harshly tugging the tie out of its loop and taking a deep breath before he began again, making his mind blank as he looped and tugged and… “Finally,” he breathed, Nino giving a grin as he examined the knot.

 

“Thanks, dude!” he said, looping his arm over his buddy’s shoulder. “So, anything I can possibly say to you today?”

 

“Nah, don’t think so,” he said, giving Nino an appreciative smile before Ali and his advisor stepped in, Ben on their heels with a smug grin that Adrien would have just loved to punch right off.

 

“Alright, gentlemen, the proceedings will take place in ten minutes,” the advisor said, Ali taking a deep breath before letting it out slowly, looking sadly down into his phone before turning it off and shoving it deep in his pocket. “Since we were unable to hold the rehearsal, please ensure that everything goes off without a hitch when walking.”

 

“Who are we going to be walking with?” Nino asked, Adrien looking up as well.

 

“You’ll all be walking solo,” she said with a shrug, “The princess requested it.”

 

“Speaking of my dear little cousin,” Ben spoke, turning to Ali as he looked up and out of whatever thought he was having. “After the proceedings, before the reception, you’ll be signing the documents.”

  
“Yes,” Ali murmured absently, and he looked so distracted and sad that Adrien almost felt sorry for him. Almost. The dude was still marrying _his_ Ladybug.

 

“Then, we’ll leave you to finish preparing,” the advisor nodded, Ben following with that still smug look on his face.

 

Ali sighed, a hand running through his hair before giving them both a nervous grin, “Thank you both for agreeing to do this, I’m afraid my few friends are still in Achu.”

 

“Don’t sweat it, man,” Nino spoke for the both of them, beaming so hard that you almost couldn’t see Adrien dying on the inside. “We’re happy to help!”

 

“Yeah,” Adrien spoke up, not wanting to seem rude, “Happy to.”

 

The rest of the minutes passed by in awkward silence, up until Adrien was called out to lead the procession. He walked, not too slowly and not too quickly, up the aisle, to a wedding that wasn’t his, to stand there by himself until Nino joined him, patting him on the back before Ali stood where he should have been standing, hands clasped behind his back as he posed regally for the camera flashes confined to the edges of the room.

 

He was shocked when Alya entered the room first, Nino beaming at how pretty his girlfriend looked in her long, flowing pink dress that seemed to suit her to a tee. Perhaps Marinette hadn’t found two other bridesmaids, and it was simply Alya now.

 

But then a tiny blonde figure almost rushed herself down the aisle, in a pale pink dress, and Adrien was…was very confused. And, by the looks of things, so was Ali, who tried to pick his jaw up off of the floor at the sight of Rose, who was trying to look anywhere but at him, almost hiding in her bouquet.

 

And then out came Juleka, smirking as she waltzed right down the aisle, and the three boys were extremely confused.

 

And then out came Marinette, and Adrien didn’t care anymore.

 

Her hair was up, delicately pinned with tendrils of hair to rest against her cheeks, her eyelashes fluttering as she marched up to the altar, the strapless gown flowing along her legs to mingle with the train that flowed from the crown atop her head, ruby painted lips smiling up at everyone.

 

And that’s when Adrien remembered that there were extra people up there, besides himself, and he turned to look at Ali, who couldn’t tear his gaze away from Rose.

 

Marinette soon reached the altar, passing her bouquet to Juleka, who was giving a shit-eating grin even as Rose sniffled next to her.

 

“Dearly beloved,” the officiator, a jolly old man, began as everyone took to their seats and got things underway, “We are gathered here today to join these two in holy matrimony. If there are any that would object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

 

Adrien waited a heartbeat, wanting to just yank the prince aside and tell the old man to keep going, before he swallowed that thought and tried to detach himself to what was going on before him.

 

Or, what would have gone on before him, if someone hadn’t spoken up.

 

“I do,” Marinette said, loudly and clearly, the whole church taking a deep breath as she grinned, everyone’s heads snapping to her.

 

“Err, my dear,” the officiator whispered, leaning close to her over the book, “That’s not the part yet.”

 

“Oh, I’m aware,” Marinette said, reaching up into her hair and unpinning her bun, letting the hair cascade down around her shoulders as she placed all of the bobby pins into Juleka’s awaiting hands. “I just object to the marriage, is all.”

 

Adrien’s pretty sure he died and went to heaven by this point as whispers echo around the hall.

 

“This was an arranged marriage from the start, set up by Prince Ali’s father, the king, Achu’s advisors, and my cousin Ben, who is acting as reigning monarch for my aunt while she’s sick, even though he’s not,” Marinette declared, fluffing out her hair and checking her nails briefly, turning to her audience that was growing in excitement. “However, I don’t blame Ali for that. After all, it’s not like he had any idea that Achu just wanted access to Astrucia’s natural resources, where it’s the only place to gather certain precious gems that are otherwise unknown to the rest of the world. But, whenever I saw the written documents that we were to sign after the ceremony, I noticed that particular little clause. I also saw the fact that I’d deter the throne to Ben once I was married, which I’m not doing in any case. Upon further inspection, I noticed that Prince Ali is now King Ali, according to official documents that were signed and sent in this morning, which would have given his advisors and his elderly father immediate access to Astrucia while Ben sat upon the throne.”

 

Everybody was gaping at her, or at each other, or turning to see Ben turn a marvelous purple color.

 

“But, there’s just one little thing,” Marinette smirked, staring Ben down as he turned a darker hue. “In order to get married, Ali needs the king’s approval.” She turned back to the prince, who was gaping at her just like everybody else, reminding Adrien that he needed to shut his own jaw and Nino’s for him. “Ali? Do you want to marry me?”

 

Ali began to grin, shaking his head slowly, “Not in the slightest!”

 

She laughed, turning to gesture to Rose, who was staring at Marinette with wide, hopeful eyes. “What about Rose?”

 

The two looked at each other, and Rose was about to cry by the looks of things, settling her face in her bouquet and sniffling uncontrollably.

  
“If she’ll have me,” Ali stated, nervous, before Rose began to sob and nod and Juleka patted her back.

  
“Then by the powers vested in me,” Marinette began before cocking a hip and smirking, “Lets switch things up a bit.”

 

And with that, and a click of a button in Gabriel Agreste’s pocket, Marinette’s white gown began to bleed burgundy, Alya giving a shocked gasp as her own dress turned a brighter, more vibrant pink, and Juleka’s turned a deep, dark purple that more suited her.

 

Meanwhile, Rose’s dress began to turn white, spreading out over the fabric carefully as Rose’s bouquet was replaced with the bigger one Juleka had, and Marinette pinned the veil and train onto the other girl’s head.

 

“Well,” the officiator said with a merry smile as Marinette stood beside Alya, who would not stop grinning and bumping her with her elbow, all easily ignoring the uproar from their viewers, “Let’s try this again! I won’t ask for the objections this time around, we saw what happened last time.”

 

Quite a few laughed, although Rose was still hiccupping, although she was beaming as she stared up at Ali, who was quite eager to wipe away her tears.

 

“What’s your name, deary?” the officiator asked.

 

“Rose,” she laughed, eyes shining back at everyone, “Rose Lavillant.”

 

“Do you, Rose Lavillant, take his royal highness Ali, as your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

 

“I do, all of that and more,” she sniffled as Ali beamed.

 

“And do you, Your Royal Highness, Ali of the Kingdom of Achu, take Rose to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

 

“I do,” he choked back.

 

“Then, by the powers vested in me – and apparently by the princess herself – I now pronounce you husband and wife,” he declared, shutting his book and smiling softly at the two, “You may now kiss the bride.”

 

They practically surged towards each other in a tight hug, crying against each other’s shoulders and laughing at their happy ending, kissing once there seemed to be a standing ovation for their marriage.

 

Adrien looked up to Marinette, who was beaming and clapping alongside Alya and Juleka, and to his father, who stood a few rows away and flashed him a wink beside Nathalie and a weeping Gorille.

 

The wedding march began again, and this time Adrien followed behind Alya and Nino, who were arm in arm behind Ali and Rose, Juleka following him closely as Marinette lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and marched herself back down the aisle, hips swaying and smirk firmly in place.

* * *

 

“What the fuck were you thinking you little brat?” Ben snarled, latching onto Marinette’s arm as she tried to claw his grip off of her.

 

“Ben, let go, that hurts!” she growled back.

 

“Good! Do you know what you’ve cost me, what you’ve cost the people of Astrucia? They were going to get paid for those gems!”

 

“What, after the money trickled through you and the upper class?” she snapped back, yanking her arm back and glaring at him. “Don’t think you’re even going to get out of this either. The authorities have already been called upon you. It’s over, Ben, there’s no throne for you unless it’s behind cell bars.”

 

She twirled away, retreating into Gabriel Agreste’s care as she hunted for her family, and Ben could swear he saw red.

 

Make that more of a purple.

* * *

 

“I can’t find my parents or my aunt anywhere,” Marinette said, tapping through her phone in frustration, “They weren’t even here before the ceremony, and I didn’t see Cecilia during it either.”

 

“I’m sure they’ll turn up, my dear, have patience,” Gabriel insisted, before scanning the crowd of guests and reporters that all wanted to talk to her. Gorille was sticking close beside her, but Nathalie was supposed to be hunting down Adrien and his friends. “My concern is where Adrien is, he couldn’t have gotten far.”

 

Marinette bit her lip, wondering what to say or do when she saw the blonde boy, before something wrapped around her and lifted her off of her feet.

 

“Marinette, I can’t believe you did all of this!” Rose cheered, hugging her tightly as she laughed, “Ooh, you don’t know how happy I am, how happy _we_ are, I can’t thank you enough!”

 

Marinette laughed, patting her on the back, “It was nothing, Rose, I was happy to. You’re much better for Ali than I could ever be, even on my good days.”

 

“I just hope you get to be happy too, after all of this is done with,” Rose said, pulling away as Juleka wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “And you! You dragged me here against my will, you knew, didn’t you?”

 

“Well yeah,” the dark haired girl snorted, rolling her eyes and grinning, “Marinette had me in on it as soon as she started planning. What, do you think I just agreed for both of us to be part of the bridal party to make you miserable?”

 

“It seemed that way,” Rose laughed, Marinette chuckling along as well before a large crash echoed across the venue, pushing Rose into Juleka and ushering them away as a thick, blackened scroll crashed through the window.

 

“Here, here, you stupid brat,” a voice echoed, and Marinette grimaced as she took to the walls, looking for a place to hide and transform. “You’ll get what you deserve now, Marinette.”

 

Ben, or what vaguely looked like Ben, crept through the holes he left in the walls as everyone scattered and screamed, although his outline looked like dripping ink with the parchment lifting him high into the air, a golden crown perched atop his head as it gleamed. He spotted Marinette, giving a creepy grin that stretched wider than humanly possible, before she was hoisted up into the air.

 

Chat, who’d scooped her up, gave her a grin and a wink before calling out to Ben, “Sorry, but it looks like this bride is gonna have to run away!”

 

He ducked down a side corridor, slipped into a closet and slammed the door on the both of them as she reached up to turn on the light.

 

“Oh my God, you are so awesome,” he said, grinning down at her and nuzzling her nose as she laughed and hugged him back. “My lady is so badass!”

 

“Chat, there’s an akuma,” she chided, and he laughed again as he sat her on her feet, hugging her tightly still as she wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed.

 

“I know, I know, but still,” he sighed, toying with her hair for a moment longer before a tiny giggle made him blink up at Tikki. “Do I even want to know where you were hiding?”

 

“No,” Tikki and Marinette chorused, and he laughed as he watched her transform, giving him a beaming grin before they pounded fists, as some sort of pre-victory celebration, before heading back out into the chaos.

 

Reigning Terror. Really. That’s what his akumatized name was. If that wasn’t foreshadowing for what sort of leader he would’ve been, Marinette wasn’t sure what was.

 

Everyone was getting splattered by ink, locking them in place so they could only stand frozen in fear. Every once in a while he would pick up a young woman, peering closely at her even if he had no eyes, before setting her back down and placing enough ink on her that she couldn’t even turn her head.

 

Chat looked to Ladybug, who looked to him, both frowning as they tried to decide where the item was before they nodded. Silent communication was always a key to their fighting styles, and this one simply said “we’ll figure it out.”

 

“Hey, you!” Chat called, leaping out of their hiding place as Ladybug pressed herself further against the wall. “I think you could use a bath, you’re dirtying up the place just by being here!”

 

Reigning Terror snarled, teeth glowing silver, and the ink covering the people began to spread farther up their bodies. The women who had already been nearly submerged shrieked as it spread across their faces.

 

“Ladybug, we don’t have time for distracting,” he stated as she nodded and threw out her yo-yo, securing it around the villain’s torso and giving a good, harsh tug before she herself was flung into the air with a startled scream, the parchment that suspended him holding her up by the string as she clung on.

 

He peered at her as Chat clambered up the wall to bring his baton down over his head, knocking off the crown as Chat clung onto his back, claws sinking into the ink as Reigning Terror snarled and tried to fling the both of them off. The yo-yo continued to wrap and spiral around him, pinning his arms to his sides as he struggled, the ink growing and growing on those who’d been trapped, and Chat nearly jumped out of his skin as his hands touched something hard deep within where Ben’s ribcage was supposed to be.

 

“Ladybug!” Chat called, holding up the manila envelope proudly, her grinning back at him before she touched down and began to tug, causing parchment and ink and – yes, even Chat – to come crashing down to the ground as she quickly twirled her yo-yo, cleansed the butterfly, and cleared the venue of the damage.

 

Ben sat, on the foyer as everyone glared at him, before a steel baton jammed itself right between his legs and very, very close to something that made him gulp.

 

“Chat!” Ladybug yelped as she watched her partner lean in close to glare at her cousin.

 

“You’re the one who came up with this whole scheme, aren’t you?” Chat asked, although he didn’t need confirmation. “You almost screwed up a lot of lives, all for your own personal gain.”

 

“Chat,” Ladybug warned, coming close to lay a hand on his shoulder.

 

“You hurt a lot of people. You were going to screw up an entire country. You were going to force two people to fake being in love, just because you wanted to be special.”

 

“Get away from me, you freak,” Ben spat before almost swallowing his tongue as Chat’s baton moved to his sternum and pressed, hissing as he heard the feral growl come from Chat’s throat.

 

“Do it! Cataclysm his ass, he hurt my friend!” Alya called out, Nino shushing her sternly, Gabriel staying close as he watched on, face hard to read.

 

Ladybug gently took Chat’s face in her hands, pulling him away for just a few moments, smiling softly at him before he sighed and retracted the baton. “Come on, Kitty, I’ve got about three minutes left.” He nodded, following her through the door, and up to the roof before she detransformed and he sighed.

 

“I’m sorry,” he insisted, shoulders slumping as he looked at Marinette as she turned to him, in her pretty not-bridal gown that was almost black in the night, the stars glittering around her. “I just – he almost screwed up your life, Princess, and I – ”

 

He was cut off as she gripped his shoulder and his chin and propelled herself up to him, covering his lips with her own and sighing as he kissed her back, tugging her close and reveling in the kiss, in the push and pull of their lips together, in the sweet smell of her perfume, in the gentle way she carded her hand through his hair and kept kissing, after every second-long break for air, standing high on her toes and squeaking when he just pulled her up in his arms, opening his eyes and nearly melting at all of the emotions that were in her eyes. For him. And only him.

 

“I – I, uhh – wow, uhh,” he stammered, setting her back on her feet and at a loss on what to say or do now because. Yup. She’d kissed him. And wow, was it about as great, if not better, than the first time. “I – ” She giggled at him, tapping at the bell at the base of his throat, smiling wide for him. “I have to go but – wow – I mean, _wow_.”

 

“We can talk about it later, Chaton,” she murmured, and he beamed back at her before nodding, kissing her hand, and catapulting off the side of the roof to transform in an alley and slip back inside.

  
“Bro! Where have you been?” Nino asked, latching onto him immediately as Alya stood nearby on her phone, speaking low into the receiver but flashing him a happy smile. “I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

  
“I was talking to some reporter about something before the akuma attacked, and someone pulled me aside to get me out of here,” he lied easily, giving a small jump when he heard Gabriel sigh and settle his hand on his shoulder.

 

“You scared me,” Gabriel admitted, Nino nodding fiercely alongside his father. Adrien grinned sheepishly back at him, genuinely grinning once he was sure he was forgiven. “Well, it turned out to be a happy day after all.”

  
“Only because you’re as big of a schemer as Marinette,” Adrien teased, Nino snorting softly but letting them have this father-son moment. “How long were you two working on those dresses?”

  
“The dresses themselves, a month or so,” he shrugged before grinning, “Playing with operated dyes? About a week, give or take.”

 

Adrien chuckled before Alya made a concerned noise, looking around and stretching over the heads of people in the crowd to try to find Marinette.

 

“Did Chat Noir hide her away somewhere or something?” Nino asked, setting a relaxing hand on his girlfriend’s back. “She’s safe, I’m sure. May be having to climb down from a fire escape.”

 

“Well, her parents called me, and they said it was urgent,” Alya stated with a huff, still scanning the crowd as Adrien thought that maybe he should have given her a lift down from the rooftops.

 

“Alya!” Marinette called, and Adrien wasn’t sure how to breathe again. Because she’d kissed Chat, but not Adrien, but all Adrien wanted to do was kiss her again. And again. And again.

 

“There you are!” Alya sighed before taking her hand and pulling her towards the front, “C’mon, we have to go meet your parents.”

 

“What?” Marinette paled, freezing in place and causing everyone to look at her curiously. “W-why? Did they say?”

 

Alya blinked and grimaced, “Well, no…but….”

 

Gabriel settled a comforting hand on her shoulder, guiding her towards the large wooden doors, “If it were something awful, my dear, they would speak to you privately, not on the streets.”

 

Marinette nodded and followed, marching out onto the staircase and sighing when she saw Cecilia and her parents climbing out of a car.

 

And then they turned to get something out of the trunk, and help somebody out of the car.

 

“Annette?!” Marinette breathed before she beamed, gathering her skirts and rushing down the stairs as her family looked up and smiled at her, the queen feeble and frail and with a covering over her head, but still reaching up to hold her niece.

 

“There, there, Marinette,” she whispered as she cried, sobbing into her shoulder as her parents smoothed out the tense muscles of her shoulders. “What? Did you think I was just about to die, like some pathetic plot piece? Cancer is awful, but it can be fought.”

 

“I thought you were done fighting,” Marinette sniffled, mascara running down her cheeks as she fought to keep her hair out of her face, “I – thought you were tired.”

 

“Perhaps with ruling for a short while, but never with living,” Annette insisted, cupping her cheek and wiping away the makeup. “I am so, so glad that you and Cecilia were able to come up with another way.”

 

“We told you, you always have a choice with your life,” Tom pointed out, softly as Sabine sniffled herself, beaming at her daughter.

 

“You just had to make your own,” Alya insisted, hugging her from behind and squeezing tightly.

 

“Group hug, group hug, group hug!” Nino cheered, pulling Adrien in forcefully as he wrapped around his girlfriend and Marinette, Adrien being tossed in as well before he was just as wrapped up and loved as Marinette. Soon, though, Sabine found herself hugging the group as well, Tom not resisting the urge to join in, Cecilia and Annette carefully outlining the group as Gabriel stayed dutifully aside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sad kazoo noises bc there's not many chapters left*


	10. We'll Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, Adrien's secret gets discovered more than he thought it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know where, don't know when...

_“So, okay, like…that truth bomb? Can we talk about that?”_

_“It was so beautiful, how she did it though! The colors of the dresses all bleeding to turn into Rose’s wedding? Genius!”_

_“Gabriel Agreste really out-did himself with those dresses in the first place, but that moment when the colors changed? That’s a moment I want to see on the runway!”_

_“Are we just gonna ignore the fact that we, as a community, were just totally going to let two barely-adults get forced into a life-long marriage contract and not even blink? Did nobody think that was a little bit odd?! Or am I the only one?”_

Marinette snorted, setting down her hairbrush and exiting out of that browser, smiling softly at the banner on the Ladyblog.

 

“ **MY GIRL MARINETTE IS A BOSS @SS B!TCH AND NOBODY CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE GO ON I F*CKING DARE YOU** ”

 

Somebody must have asked her to censor herself.

 

It’d only been a day since she’d bypassed that marriage fiasco, and she’d had to turn her phone off. People asking for interviews, articles, pictures, they wouldn’t seem to leave her alone. She’d already decided she’d do one with Nadja Chamak, and one with Alya once she’d narrowed down her questions, but other than that she refused to do more.

 

She’d spent the day with her family, inside and cooking and laughing and loving each other’s company. She’d been able to talk to Annette, about her ruling Astrucia once she was done with college and Cecilia happily and capably taking over in the mean time, letting Sabine feed her sisters as many macarons as the women could stomach.

 

Tom had sat down with her, only a few moments ago, saying that he was glad that his little girl wouldn’t have to go through something that had obviously caused such a strain on Annette.

 

“I want you to be with someone who loves you, Marinette,” Tom had insisted, brushing away bits of her hair from her face, “That’s what your mother wants too. Somebody who loves all of you, unconditionally.”

 

Marinette hummed at the thought, smirking slightly when she heard tapping against her window.

 

“Speak of the devil,” she said as she turned in her office chair, smiling at Chat Noir as he climbed through her window and shut it behind him.

 

“Ahh, were you talking about me, Princess?” he asked with a low bow and a wink, straightening himself and grinning when he saw her computer screen. “Hm, I notice that you’ve seen Alya’s declaration of your badassery. I should compliment her on it next time.”

 

She chuckled, standing and smoothing down her pajamas. Nothing too fancy or showy, just a pair of old basketball shorts and a t-shirt she’d gotten paint on. Chat Noir still looked at her like she was dressed up from yesterday, and she wasn’t sure what it would do to her poor heart.

 

“So, we agreed to talk,” he began, slowly, walking towards her carefully, as if she would run if he moved too fast.

 

“We did,” she nodded, biting the inside of her cheek before she spoke again, “It’s funny. I didn’t think the cat would ever be let out of the bag.”

 

He paused, tilting his head at her curiously, “What do you mean?”

 

She sheepishly grinned up at him, “Hi, Adrien.”

 

He froze entirely, staring at her with wide eyes as she stuffed her hands in the pockets of the shorts and fidgeted.

 

“I, uhh – well…I didn’t know who you were up until I kissed you, yesterday,” she admitted before giving a small laugh, “Like I wouldn’t recognize that I’ve kissed the same boy twice! Especially not when I’m, you know…in love with both.”

 

It took a few long, drawn out moments before he closed his eyes and released a shaky exhale, opening his eyes to peer at her hopefully.

 

“Is it…okay?” he asked, uncertainly, stepping closer to her carefully.

 

She chuckled, smiling up at him, “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

 

He released another breath, releasing his transformation in the same instant, tapping his forehead to hers and feeling his heartbeat relax. “I don’t know…. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

 

She hummed, reaching a hand up to smooth through his hair, “You’re right. It would have hurt me. Now it just makes everything easier.”

 

“Easier?” he asked, quirking a smile for her.

 

“Yeah,” she giggled, cupping his cheeks in her hands, “Easier to not feel torn between two guys. It’s handier when they’re the same person.”

 

“Ohh, I know what you mean,” he teased, nuzzling her and getting her to laugh again. “Granted, I was immediately thrown into emotional turmoil upon your reveal.”

 

“I’m sorry, kitty,” she whispered, biting her lip in uncertainty as she winced up at him.

  
“Hey now, it’s not your fault,” he insisted, wrapping his arms around her and tapping her chin up. “Don’t ever be sorry, Bugaboo.”

 

She hummed, wrapping around him and listening to his heart thud under her ear, grinning when it sped up a fraction before he touched her cheek to brush a piece of hair behind her ear.

 

“Plagg,” Tikki hissed, causing the two to jolt in surprise, “Don’t you dare ruin this moment for them!”

 

They raised their heads, seeing a black cat god grin cheekily at the two of them before Tikki tried to shove him into the jewelry box with her.

 

“I’m enjoying this! I’m allowed to!” he insisted, trying to fight her back as she poked and prodded him into place, “This is like a victory for me! C’mon, hey – Tikki!”

 

Marinette giggled, Adrien grinning back at his kwami as he fought back the little red god to get to Marinette, who cupped her palms around him easily, Tikki huffing in the meanwhile.

 

“Nice to finally talk to you, Bug, thanks for not making my kid utterly miserable for the rest of his days,” Plagg stated, simply, causing Marinette to blush as Adrien grimaced.

 

“I’m glad he won’t be either,” she answered, smiling up at the blonde before the two jumped in surprise at the knocking on her trapdoor.

 

“Marinette, are you decent? I’m crashing on your couch again!” Cecilia called as Adrien retransformed and slipped through her window with a wink, smiling from ear to ear as he tiptoed home to slip through his own window.

 

Only to pause halfway over when the light flicked on.

 

He froze, gripping onto the window beneath him as he lifted his head to look up at his stoic father.

 

“Uhh,” he stalled before rushing into action, “Monsieur Agreste! I’ve just noticed that your son - !”

 

“Is Chat Noir?” Gabriel asked, giving a slight smirk as he saw Chat blanche back at him. “Take a seat, Adrien.”

 

And so he did, holding Plagg close to his drumming heart once he tumbled out, Gabriel standing in front of him with his hands clasped behind his back.

  
“Hey, look, i-it’s not the kid’s fault, okay,” Plagg began, Adrien trying to shush him and failing. “He’s a good kid.”

 

“I’m aware,” Gabriel intoned before lifting an eyebrow to his son, who was as white as a sheet. “Adrien. Meet Belle.”

 

Adrien only had a second or two to blink at his father before his vision was invaded by a blur of blue and purple and feathers, causing him to sneeze before the kwami gave him some space.

 

“Look at him! Look at you!” she squealed, “So grown up since I’ve seen you! Well, in person, of course, face to face, I’ve seen you plenty of course!”

 

“Dad?” Adrien asked, looking to his chuckling father for assistance.

 

“Your hair is almost exactly like Aurora’s, except, of course, shorter! Jeez, you really take after your mother, no wonder you’re so pretty!” she continued, taking care to fold her tail feathers before she smoothed over his cheeks, “And these cheek bones! Ugh! If I were a human, I’d be jealous of them.”

 

“ _Dad?_ ” Adrien stressed.

 

“You’re the peacock?!” Plagg screeched, “You’ve been Belle’s holder for _years!_ ”

 

“Yes, I have been,” Gabriel finally answered, taking a seat and letting Belle zip around the room to look at everything. “I’ve been le Paon for years, started younger than you started being Chat Noir. I haven’t transformed in ages, but I can’t seem to give Belle away just yet.”

 

“How did I not know?” Plagg grumbled as Belle swooped in to poke at an ear.

 

“Because all you’re worried about is cheese, akumas and Adrien,” she giggled as he hissed at her, ears laid back as he growled.

 

“You’re…a Miraculous holder?” Adrien asked, shifting in his seat as Plagg floated in the air, arms crossed and chin held high.

 

“I am,” Gabriel nodded.

 

“Did…did Mom know?” he whispered, not sure if his stomach was going to revolt or not.

 

“She did,” he murmured back, looking at his wedding ring through his clasped hands. “She used to be the holder of the butterfly miraculous. The very same that Hawkmoth now holds.” Adrien stared at his father as he took off his glasses, set them on the coffee table, and ran his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh. “I had been Le Paon for a few years before your mother showed up. She was new, and clumsy at it, but eager. She took to it like a duck to water, being a hero, helping people, making people happy. She made me happy. She helped me.”

 

He inhaled sharply, “My home life…was not great. You know at least that much, and one day I will tell you the rest, when I’m brave enough. But your mother…she saved me, Adrien. We discovered our identities after she’d already called off her previous engagement, had been amicable for a few months, and I’d always loved Aurora in high school. She’d admitted to having fallen for me, for Gabriel, ever since I designed her dresses and helped her. It was an accident, seeing each other transform at the same time, but it was…amazing. And after we’d started dating, she’d discovered how I was living, and _she_ proposed to me. We got married quickly, to move out, because that was the order you had to do things then.

 

“She showed me what it was like to have a happy family, to be happy when you come home, to go to bed happy and wake up happy,” Gabriel’s voice was wobbling, and Belle took to his side, soft and quiet and helping him through it. “When she became pregnant with you, we talked about giving up our Miraculouses. But we were so worried, because what if we couldn’t protect you if something were to happen? She decided to give up Nooroo, her kwami, and I would keep Belle as a safety measure. I’m sure Aurora knew how much Belle meant to me, how much she’d helped me in my adolescence, and didn’t want her to…to depart.” Tears were trickling down his face, and Belle swiped them away before she continued.

 

“We didn’t know that something would happen to Aurora,” Belle stated, sad and looking bluer than she had initially. “She was just gone one night. Years after she’d given up Nooroo. And then, that maniac, Hawkmoth, started showing up. Abusing Nooroo’s power, abusing _Nooroo_. We think that Aurora knew, maybe, the day he’d gotten ahold of the kwami, and she disappeared to protect you two.”

 

“W-why would she?” Adrien asked, voice cracking.

 

“A kwami is bound by it’s previous holders,” Plagg answered, softly, resting on Adrien’s shoulder. “Especially ones that have been chosen, unlike Hawkmoth. Ones that exemplify what the kwami themselves are for.”

 

“Aurora was every bit of the butterfly,” Belle sighed, wiping away her own tears. “Beautiful. Graceful. Giving. Inspiring.”

 

“She would hold more claim to Nooroo than Hawkmoth would, and would, therefore, be able to challenge him for the Miraculous,” Plagg continued, “Wouldn’t even be much of a challenge, really. But, if he knew that, he’d go after her. And your dad. And Belle. And me and you, Adrien.”

 

“So she’s out there?” Adrien asked, hopefully.

 

“I hope so,” Gabriel whispered, moving to sit next to his son and grasping his shoulder. “I don’t have a problem with you being Chat Noir. It’s just another level of protection that I couldn’t give you. You’re fantastic at it and…and I’ve never been prouder of you.”

 

Adrien was crying, sniffling and trying to make it stop as Gabriel wiped his tears away and pressed his forehead against his. “D-dad, I – ”

 

“I just want you safe,” Gabriel insisted, softly, cradling the back of Adrien’s head as he tried not to cry any more. “That’s what I’ve always wanted for you. S-safe, a-and happy.”

 

“I am happy now,” he said, giving a watery laugh as Gabriel chuckled, both still crying and showing no signs of stopping.

 

“Marinette is Ladybug, isn’t she?” he asked, smiling, “Chat Noirs and Ladybugs belong together.”

 

“Cat’s out of the bag,” Adrien laughed, seeing his father’s nose wrinkle before Plagg swatted at Adrien’s ear.

 

“Don’t steal Marinette’s joke, she pulled that one already,” he huffed.

 

Gabriel’s eyebrow arched high, Adrien about to grow red.

 

“Don’t even, mister,” Belle warned, Gabriel huffing before wiping his face and looking at Adrien with importance.

 

“I won’t forbid you from going out to see her, or anything,” he began, and Adrien began to really feel fear. “But if you are, make sure you use protection.”

 

“ _Dad, oh my GOD, I haven’t even taken her on a date yet, why would you say that?!_ ” Adrien exclaimed as he covered his face with his hands and collapsed onto his couch.

 

“Has your school had proper sex education classes?” Gabriel insisted, leaning over his son and poking at his sides as he grinned. “With the banana and everything? Are you aware of possible STDs? I’m too young to be a grandfather, Adrien, wait at least two years.”

 

Adrien could only laugh, both mortified and pleased, and he realized later that night as he was curled up in bed that it was because that was something that he could definitely get used to.

 

After the deeply personal and then mortifying experience of last night, it was safe to say that things were changing. They only had three more days of school left, Marinette was no longer engaged, and Adrien could do things such as leap down the flight of stairs with only Nathalie blinking in surprise.

 

“Adrien,” Gabriel said, monotonously as he tried to hurry out of the door, schoolbag clutched tightly in his hand as he was halted. “Where are you in such a hurry to? School doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, and you’re right next door.”  


“I know, I just – uhh – ” Adrien tried, fidgeting in place as Nathalie gaped between him and the massive staircase he had barely touched. “Was hoping to walk?”

 

“Again, it’s right next door,” he insisted.

 

Adrien sighed, looking at him desperately, “I was hoping to walk a _friend?_ ”

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Gabriel said with no loss of amusement, “Well, better get going. You’ve lost your head start.”

 

Adrien beamed, hugging his father quickly before skipping down the mansion steps, waving over his shoulder, “Thanks, Dad! Bye, Nathalie!”

 

“S-sir, what about his bodyguard?” she asked, clutching her tablet as her entire world turned upside down. Rather for the better, but it was still shocking.

 

“I rather think Adrien doesn’t require one anymore,” he hummed before checking his own tablet. “Invite Marinette over for dinner in the following week, would you? I believe we’ll still see her from time to time.”

 

“Yes, sir,” she murmured, watching him retreat and making the appropriate changes in schedule, confused but not displeased.

 

And so Adrien was rushing from different blocks, checking his watch every thirty seconds, Plagg being bumped around in his shirt pocket.

 

“Why are you in such a rush?” Plagg asked, mostly in amusement, wiggling down further in the corner of the pocket so he was tucked in safely.

 

“Gotten make it before she leaves for school,” he insisted, dodging a group of young teenagers as they gave him strange looks, but they were soon a speck behind him as he rounded the corner to Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie.

 

“Adrien!” Sabine yelped in surprise as he pulled the door open, just as she was about to mess with the blinds, Tom poking his head out of the backroom before he began to snicker. “Oh, you scared me!”

 

“I’m so sorry, Madame Cheng,” he grimaced as she patted her hand to her heart. “Uhm – I was wondering if Marinette was still here? I – I’d like to walk with her today, if that’s alright.”

 

Sabine and Tom both got the biggest smiles on their faces, sharing eager glances that Adrien was confused by.

 

“She is, yes, let me go get her!” Sabine practically squealed, zooming by her sister on the way up the stairs, Cecilia looking at her curiously before her eyes landed on Adrien and she gave a beaming grin.

 

“Tom, is today the day?” she asked, patting her brother-in-law’s arm as they shared manic, eager grins.

 

“I think so,” he whispered, Adrien beginning to grow nervous.

 

“Maman!” he heard Marinette call, footsteps announcing her approach upstairs. “What is with you? My hair is fine!”

 

“I know, dear, but – oh – what if it’s windy? Wouldn’t you like it up?” Sabine fretted, another snickering voice signaling that Annette was in on it now.

 

“My hair is _always_ up,” Marinette snorted as she began to descend the stairs, wearing simple sneakers, then skinny jeans, then a Jagged Stone t-shirt. “What is your – oh!”

 

She stopped as soon as she saw Adrien, not even noticing Annette handing the camera to Sabine behind her, blinking and gaping as he grinned back at her.

 

“Hi,” Adrien spoke.

 

“Hi,” Marinette echoed, stepping down the last few steps and blinking at him curiously.

 

“Would it be alright if I walked with you to school?” he questioned.

 

“Oh, uhh – yes,” she said, fidgeting with her hair – which was down, and he was trying to fight the urge to play with it. “Uhm – oh!” She turned to her family, Sabine just barely hiding the camera before she saw it. “Goodbye! I love you all, I’ll be back soon!”

  
“Take your time!” Sabine insisted.

 

“All the time you need!” Cecilia crowed.

 

“Take pictures!” Annette declared.

 

Tom, however, chuckled and kissed her forehead, “Have fun today, cupcake.”

 

She smiled, looking at her mother and aunts strangely, before turning and walking out of the door as Adrien held it open for her, totally missing the thumbs up her entire family shot at him as he grinned.

 

“So, what’s the special occasion?” she asked, simply, clicking open her bag and letting Plagg zip straight into it to pounce on Tikki.

 

“Special occasion?” he questioned, smiling at her anyway.

 

“To have such a notable escort today, of course,” she teased, and he snickered.

 

“Well, I wasn’t sure if I should come like this, or with my leather ensemble,” he chuckled as she grinned. It was easier like this, they realized. Without the masks, without the magic, yet knowing perfectly where they stood with each other. Adrien and Marinette, Ladybug and Chat Noir, walking to school together.

 

“While I am a big fan of the leather, I think your current wardrobe is far comfier,” she insisted.

 

“Oh? Well, in that sense, I quite enjoy your red outfit. Really brings out your eyes.”

 

She barked a laugh, eyes twinkling, and before they knew it they were bypassing paparazzi and walking up the steps together, completely lost in their own little world by the time their friends caught up with them in the courtyard.

 

“Make way, ladies and gentlemen! A badass princess is walking through!” Alya hollered, clearing a bench to wrap her friend in a tight hug and begin to swing her around. Adrien looked and saw that Nino was scoffing at her fondly, while Ali and Rose were beaming as they made their way to them.

 

“Marinette, I wasn’t sure if I was able to thank you properly after the wedding,” Ali began as soon as Alya relinquished her. “I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for giving me a wedding with Rose, and for saving our kingdoms. Now that I’m king, I plan on making some changes with my new queen.” Rose blushed and swatted at him.

 

She shrugged, easily, smiling back at the guy who, thirty-six hours ago, was her fiancé. “I’m just under the impression that you should only marry who you love, and that sure as hell wasn’t me. I can’t wait to see the king you become, and I know it will only go up from here.”

 

“Well, I for one, do have one small request, as Marinette’s stand-in legal consultant,” Alya stated, tossing her arm around her shoulders and tugging her close as she scoffed at her fondly, much like Nino did. “Godmother to at least one baby.”

 

Rose laughed, easily, unembarrassed as Ali flushed bright red. “Juleka’s been promised to be one since middle school, you’ll have to fight her for the first one.”

 

“Dibs on second then,” Marinette teased, chuckling as Ali went from red to pale in little to no time at all, Nino snickering at him.

 

“Man, you do know what comes after marriage, right?” Nino asked, clapping him on the back.

 

“To be fair, we haven’t even graduated yet,” Alya offered, “And he’s had a rough couple of months anyway.”

  
Marinette slipped away from the group to go to her locker, Adrien following casually behind to lean against the one next to her as she fiddled with the lock.

  
“Sooo – uhh…hi,” Adrien started lamely, Marinette arching an eyebrow back at him before smiling.

 

“Hi?” she grinned, opening the door and readjusting things, picking out books to return or things to keep and settling them in different sections of her locker.

 

“I was wondering if you were available any time soon,” he began, and she paused for a moment before a wide grin stretched across her face, resuming her task.

 

“Oh? For what, exactly?”

 

“Oh, you know,” he teased with a shrug and a grin, “Normal, everyday date-stuff. Dinner, movie, walk you home.” He leaned forward, inches away from her face, smiling at each other. “We go hop around rooftops for a couple of hours. Thoughts?”

 

Marinette hummed, shutting the door and smiling back up at him, “Sounds like you got yourself a date. Tomorrow at six?”

 

“Purrfect,” he insisted, taking her hand with a smile and having just brought it up to his lips when two shrieks pierced the air.

 

“ _MARINETTE OH MY GOD YES GET IT GIRL”_

_“EXCUSE YOU MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG HOW DARE YOU GET ANYWHERE NEAR MY ADRIEN”_

Adrien turned bright red faster than Marinette did, his warm and tender smile against her hand turning into a grimace and an apologetic look in his eyes. But she still smiled at him and grasped their hands together, flipping it so that she placed a kiss against his knuckles with a small smile and a laugh.

 

The days passed by quickly, and soon enough Paris found itself housing a lounging Chat Noir and Ladybug, leaning against each other with nothing but comfort and ease.

 

“Favorite video game, other than Mecha Strike?” Chat Noir asked, licking off a stripe of frosting off a cupcake.

 

She hummed, her pillow being his thigh as she looked up at him surrounded by the stars. “Honestly? Probably Pokemon.”

 

“Ooh! Which gen?” he beamed.

 

“Okay, the graphics of the newer games are badass and amazing, while still keeping in touch with it’s roots,” she answered before giggling, “Although X and Y are probably my favorite.”

 

“X and Y?” he snorted softly, teasingly, carding a clawed hand through her hair, “How terribly biased of you, My Lady.”

  
“What can I say? I love Paris,” she insisted, nuzzling against his side further and grinning when she heard the beginnings of a purr rumble in his chest. “What about you, Kitty Cat?”

 

“Ohh, I do love Pokemon, my favorite gen is probably…” he paused, thinking while he pursed his lips, speaking around the purr. “Honestly? I liked Pearl a lot. It was the one my mom first got for me.”

 

“Favorite pokemon from Pearl?”

 

“Shinx! You?”

 

“Don’t laugh,” she prefaced as sternly as possible.

 

“If you say Ledyba, I will have to.”

 

“No, actually, I mainly stay away from bug types, if you can believe it.” She took a breath before sighing, “My favorite was Meowstic.”

 

“Aww, My Lady loves cat types!” he crowed, scooping her up in his arms and nuzzling her nose with his, the purring as loud as possible as she laughed and nuzzled him back, both happy and content for the first time in a long time.

* * *

 

_“You stay away from him! Both of them!”_

_“Then all I need is you, out of the picture. It’s all as simple as can be, nothing personal. I’m sure you understand.”_

_“Mom? Who are you talking to?”_

_“Nobody, sweetie, just a business call.”_

_“Your phone’s out here, though.”_  
  


_“I know, baby, I’m on a different phone. I’ll be out in a few minutes, okay? Promise!”_

_“Okay!”_

_“That was your son, yes? He’s growing so fast, isn’t he?”_

_“You leave my son out of this. You leave both of them out of this, you hear me?”_

_“Then you know what you need to do.”_

 

And she did know.

 

That’s why she ran.

 

Because she wasn’t going to give up her soul, her very life, to watch this maniac who’d taken poor Nooroo to grow and prosper.

 

But she’d rather die than hurt her family.

 

“ _Adrien! Adrien, how long have you been dating the princess?_ ” Her TV caught her attention, making her swivel around to stare at the screen, drinking in the sight of her son, so grown up, looking bashfully at all of the cameras pointing at him.

 

“ _Oh! W-well, not long, actually, just a few months!”_

 

“ _Are you simply a rebound for Ali? The next best thing? You are basically the prince of the fashion empire, after all.”_

_“Oh please, Marinette and Ali never had any feelings for each other, and you should know that by now. I care very deeply about Marinette, and we both care about Ali and Rose. Please, don’t insult any of us by insinuating that the whole charade was anything more than an awful situation.”_

_“What does your father think of her? She is looking to be a fashion designer, after all.”_

_“Actually,”_ she could have sworn her heart stopped and her blood pumped faster, seeing Gabriel on the screen next to Adrien, nearly a perfect family portrait if only she’d been there. “ _Marinette is a wonderful young lady. I hardly think Adrien could do better. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we must get to dinner. Have a nice evening.”_

 

Aurora sat, in the middle of her tiny apartment, underneath a different name and occupation, in a different country, leaning on the edge of her seat to catch the last little glimpses of her family before they slipped away.

 

She caught Gabriel’s tender smile, steering Adrien away, Adrien’s eager grin that she vaguely recalled seeing in the mirror from time to time, and a flash of silver as Adrien waved his goodbyes.

 

She found herself cold and trying to breathe.

 

Adrien was Chat Noir.

 

She had to get to them.

 

She had to, before he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But we'll meet again...

**Author's Note:**

> *jazz hands towards the comments section*


End file.
